


Another New York City Serenade

by unfolded73



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Cunnilingus, Dirty Dancing, Drinking, Drunk Sex, F/M, First Time, Granny's Diner, Hangover, Hook Kink, MacGuffins, Phone Sex, Porn with Feelings, Road Trips, Season/Series 04
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-05
Updated: 2017-02-15
Packaged: 2018-09-14 21:41:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 29,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9204566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unfolded73/pseuds/unfolded73
Summary: With the visitors from Arendelle gone and Gold banished, Emma and Killian’s relationship continues to deepen, especially when an excuse for a road trip away from Storybrooke falls into their laps. (A S4 hiatus story).





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks as always to j-philly-b for the beta.

It had been a weird day.

She wasn’t even sure if holding her boyfriend’s literal heart in her hand was the weirdest thing, but… no, that was probably the weirdest thing. Followed closely by sending their friends from Arendelle through a magical door, watching Belle command her husband with the Dark One’s dagger (and thank God she had), and doing a shot with Regina.

Now here she was, leaving what was apparently the Author’s house with Regina and Henry, their son flush with his success at finding the room full of empty storybooks.

“Henry’s at your place for a couple of days, right?”

Regina frowned. “That is our agreed upon schedule, Emma, if you expect to change—”

“No, no change, just checking that you were still on board with the schedule, that’s all.” She held up a placating hand. Every discussion of their shared custody of Henry was a potential minefield, and Regina was still sensitive after the period of time when Henry hadn’t remembered her. Not to mention, she had had a really shitty day.

Regina looked briefly remorseful for jumping to conclusions. “Do you want a ride back to the loft before I take Henry home?” They’d taken Regina’s car from Granny’s to the Author’s house after Henry had interrupted their plans for binge drinking. Now it seemed the moment had passed.

Emma’s mind went immediately to Killian. After she’d restored his heart to his chest (and after he’d kissed her hard enough to weaken her knees), he’d excused himself to take a long shower and _wash the stink of the Dark One away_ , he’d said. Which is why she’d been at loose ends and ended up drinking with Regina in the first place.

“Could you drop me at Granny’s, actually?”

Regina arched an eyebrow at her, and Emma glanced at Henry in the backseat, but he was flipping through the storybook and wasn’t paying them any attention.

“I just want to make sure Hook’s okay, what with the whole heart… thing,” she said, gesturing violently at her chest to mime jamming a heart back in place.

“Of course you do,” Regina said, her skepticism at Emma’s motives clear, but she made no other comment about it. Emma waved goodbye to them both, and then went around the building to the entrance for the inn, not wanting to be waylaid by anyone still at the diner.

As she climbed the stairs, her heart hammered in her chest. He might be exhausted; had Gold let him sleep? Maybe she shouldn’t bother him. Or maybe she should just check quickly that there hadn’t been any side-effects from her amateur heart restoration, and then let him sleep. Maybe this was the worst possible time to be pondering whether she’d regret not packing an overnight bag. If only Henry hadn’t interrupted her and Regina, because just a couple more shots of liquid courage would have been helpful.

Her knock on his door was tentative; the last thing she wanted to do was wake him. But she heard him moving across the room, and when the door opened, there was no evidence that he’d been sleeping. Only his lack of shoes or a jacket indicated that he might be in for the night.

“Swan.” His face broke into a smile. “I wondered where you’d gotten off to. I was just debating whether I should call your phone with mine.”

With a smile at his slightly awkward phrasing, Emma stepped into the room at his gestured invitation. “Sorry about that, Henry needed me for something. And then I wasn’t sure if you’d be asleep…” His hair was damp from his shower, but he’d put clothes back on, perhaps to look for her downstairs.

“I am not, as you can see.”

They stood awkwardly staring at each other for a few seconds, and Emma wished she could just zap them back to the moment after she’d returned his heart, when they had fused themselves together instantaneously without over-thinking it, as she was definitely doing now.

Maybe the best approach was just to lay it all out on the table. She shrugged out of her jacket and set it aside.

“I feel like things between us got a little bit derailed,” she said finally. “We had a couple of dates, and things were going great, but then my magic went haywire and Gold took your heart, and I just—”

“I’m sorry, Emma.”

“You don’t need to apologize for anything.”

Killian looked pained. “I do. The Dark One never would have stolen my heart if I hadn’t tried to blackmail him into restoring my hand. I went about everything the wrong way, and it put you in danger to him, more danger than you know even now. And it was all my fault.”

Emma reached out and took hold of his hook. “And would you have done that if you hadn’t thought that you needed to be something more in order to be with me?” She raised the hook to her mouth and kissed it, noticing the way the action made his eyes widen, his breath catch. “Maybe if I had made it clear that you’re enough just as you are, then—”

“In no way is any of this your fault, Swan, so don’t even suggest such a thing.” Reaching out with his hand, he caressed her cheek.

“Well, then don’t _you_ suggest that you are responsible for Gold ripping your heart out of your chest and turning you into his puppet, okay?”

A quick, awkward smile flashed on his lips but didn’t reach his eyes. “As you say.”

“Look, I didn’t bring this up so that you could beat yourself up over whatever happened between you and Gold.” She stepped closer, her knees touching his. “I brought it up because I wanted to tell you that before everything went crazy, I had decided that it was definitely time for us to spend the night together, and I’d like to pick things up there, if you don’t mind.” She could feel her heart pounding in her chest as she bravely met his gaze.

Without a word Killian swept in for a kiss, his mouth warm and eager, opening readily to taste her. Emma thought again that she should have known what was wrong, the way he had kissed her while Gold was controlling him. The cold precision of it was so unlike him that she chided herself for not deducing that his heart had been taken, which was surely nonsense, but she felt guilty anyway.

Killian pressed in close, hand clutching her waist, anchoring her in place as he continued to explore her mouth. When he pulled away, she chased his lips.

“Are you certain?” he whispered, and she couldn’t help but smile, giddy with relief. She’d come close to losing him today, had been helpless as she watched Gold get within a hair’s breadth of crushing his heart, and the fact that he was still with her, warm and solid and smelling so good, was making her light-headed.

“Yeah. That is, if you want to.”

He laughed, a deep chuckle that did things to her insides. “Are you honestly asking if I want to share my bed with you, Swan? As if the answer to that could be anything but an enthusiastic shout of ‘yes’ from the top of the clock tower?” He kissed her again, a sweet, innocent touch of his lips to hers that somehow promised more.

“Well, let’s not shout anything from the clock tower about our sex life, okay?” She sat down on the bed, reaching down to take her boots off. “The whole town is probably going to know our business soon enough as it is.”

Sitting beside her, Killian looked pleased and a bit shocked, as if he hadn’t considered that the evening might turn out like this. It was so adorable that she had to kiss him again, and it didn’t take much pressure before he tipped backwards and they were lying down, her body half on top of his, her hair hanging down around their faces in blonde waves. His hand skimmed over her head and then down to her ass before moving up under her thin sweater against the skin of her back.

A thought occurred to Emma and she broke the kiss with a groan. She rolled over beside him, pulling her phone out of her pocket and looking at it. “Speaking of people knowing our business, I should probably tell my parents something, just so they won’t expect me home tonight.”

Killian winced. “Try to phrase it in such a way that your father doesn’t see fit to murder me.”

“I’m a thirty-year-old woman with a child; he needs to chill.” Nonetheless, she clicked on ‘Mary Margaret’ from her list of contacts. _**don’t wait up for me tonite**_ , she texted.

“It is true that the sexual mores of this realm are quite different from the Enchanted Forest,” Killian said.

“Oh, yeah? Everyone dutifully waited until they were married there, huh?”

 _ **Oh? Big plans?**_ popped up on her phone screen from her mother.

Emma made a face at the phone. _Yeah, I plan to ride my boyfriend into next week_ , she thought before texting back simply, _**spending the night with hook**_. No point in being coy about it, she thought. They’d put two and two together anyway.

“No, I certainly wouldn’t say that, even among those who were more upstanding citizens than my good self. But still, people in this realm seem very… free with their willingness to share a bedchamber with whomever they choose.”

“I guess.” She watched the three dots blinking on her phone as her mother composed another text. Finally, _**Use protection!!**_ appeared, followed by an emoji of an umbrella and an eggplant. “Oh my god,” Emma muttered, clicking the screen off and putting her phone aside.

“Everything all right?” Killian asked, his hand stroking up and down her hip.

“Yeah, sorry.” She smiled. “I don’t know how much you’ve learned about modern birth control in this realm; I assume it’s different from the Enchanted Forest.”

“I did a bit of research, as it happens,” he said, spots of color appearing on his cheeks, “because we often relied on potions, which I assumed weren’t an option here. Unless Regina has a side business I’m not aware of.”

“Can you imagine?” She snorted with laughter. “So here’s the thing,” she said, barreling ahead with the talk that was never fun, no matter who she had it with, but she’d learned her lesson after Neal. “I have something called an IUD which keeps me from getting pregnant. One unplanned pregnancy in my life was enough, believe me. But there’s also… were sexually transmitted diseases a thing you had to deal with? Because here people use condoms for that.”

“Aye, such ailments existed, although I never suffered from any myself.”

“That you know of,” she countered. “I’d just be more comfortable if we could use condoms for now.” She glanced over at her jacket, where she had jammed her wallet in the pocket that morning. “I brought a couple, so—”

“Swan, I assure you,” he said, nuzzling his nose against hers, “I will joyfully do anything, with a song in my heart, in service of sharing our bodies in pleasure.”

“Oh.” She bridged the space between their mouths and kissed him, her lips sliding wetly against his. “That’s very sweet. And hot.” Her fingers went to work unbuttoning his shirt, parting it to gradually reveal the way his familiar chest hair led an enticing trail down his abdomen, disappearing below his belt. As soon as she had his shirt open, Killian sat up, clicking his hook out and setting it aside. He then moved to unbutton his left sleeve cuff so that he could work his shirt off over the brace he wore underneath. While he did that, Emma shimmied out of her jeans and pulled her sweater off over her head, throwing both on the floor.

Killian’s fingers had fallen to his belt when he registered her, lying there on the bed in her underwear. He froze, his eyes drinking her in. She hadn’t worn any kind of spectacular matching lingerie, just a black bra and a nice pair of cotton panties with blue stripes, but he looked at her like she was some kind of goddess come to earth.

“You are the loveliest creature I’ve ever seen.” He moved over her, and Emma wrapped her arms around him, enjoying the way the muscles of his back moved under her hands, the slightly scratchy press of his chest against hers. Deep open-mouthed kisses that she felt all the way down to her knees led to his mouth on her neck, her shoulder, his fingers pulling her bra strap down her arm, his lips and tongue following in its wake. Her legs fell open as he rolled her underneath him, and she rutted against the roughness of his erection inside his jeans, his belt buckle digging into the soft skin of her abdomen.

As they kissed, her hand skated over one of the leather straps that held his brace in place. “You can take this off. But you don’t have to if it makes you uncomfortable,” she added off the nervous expression on his face.

He paused, pressing his forehead against hers. “I fear it would cool your desire if you were to see me without it,” he finally said, hesitant.

Stroking the scar on his cheek, her heart broke for him a little. “I guarantee that it won’t.”

He breathed with her for a few moments before nodding. Killian sat back on his heels, and Emma watched him, breathless, as he unbuckled the straps and dropped his brace to the floor. His eyes held a mixture of worry and awe, and all she wanted to do was soothe that worry away forever. Taking hold of his left wrist, she sat up, her legs still bracketing his. Pressing the end of his stunted arm against her chest, she stretched forward and kissed him gently. “I’m a fan of every part of you,” she said against his mouth, echoing his own words back at him.

She felt the moment that her acceptance struck him; it was like magic the way she could sense the flare of passion roll through him as he captured her mouth again. “Emma,” he gasped, his hand spanning her cheek, and the desperation in his voice made desire spark inside her.

Fumbling for his belt buckle, Emma’s hands shook. She suddenly needed to get his pants off _right fucking now_ , but was thwarted as Killian pulled the cup of her bra down, his lips closing around her nipple. What had been a slow burn between them, slowed further by the unsexy practicality of contraceptives and Killian’s hesitancy over his missing hand, flared into an uncontrollable blaze. She persevered with his jeans, getting the zipper open and working her hand down inside to close her fingers around his erection. His hot breath exhaled over her breast. She stroked his cock, hard and smooth skin in her fist making her crave him all the more, and grinned in triumph as he moaned brokenly.

“Get these off,” she demanded, and stopped fondling him so that she could push at the waistband of his jeans. His face was all smirky confidence now, any shame about his uncovered wrist forgotten.

“As my lady commands,” he said, voice low and gravelly with desire.

Rolling her eyes, Emma stood and went over to the chair where she had dropped her jacket and struggled to pull her wallet out of the small pocket. As she unzipped it and took out the condoms, her eyes were drawn to Killian kicking his jeans away. He crawled up the bed, completely naked now, and turned the covers down, arranging himself under them like some kind of fucking calendar model and beckoning to her. He was completely unfair and it occurred to her, not for the first time, how totally and utterly doomed she was when it came to this man.

With a deep breath, she reached behind her back to unclasp her bra, then slid her underwear off, shimmying a little to drop them to the floor. The way Killian was watching her as she walked over to join him in bed, she supposed the feeling was mutual.

Their bodies met in a tangle of legs and crush of lips, his thigh pressed precisely against her, and she tried not to moan, tried not to blatantly grind down on him, but she was helpless. She wanted him, all of him, now. One of the condoms was still clutched in her hand, and she brought it to her lips, intending to rip open the package.

“Not so fast,” he murmured, taking the foil packet from her and setting it on the pillow above her head. “There’s no hurry.” She laughed, not liking the slightly hysterical edge she heard in her voice. Self-consciousness flushed her cheeks. He seemed to read her feelings and shook his head, smiling softly. “Don’t mistake me, Emma. I’m not sure I’ve ever wanted anything more than I want to be inside you.” Her stomach swooped and she watched, mesmerized, as his ringed fingers stroked gently across her abdomen, up to her breast, and then down over the flare of her hipbone. “But I’ll never have another first time seeing you naked, and I very much want to appreciate it.”

 _God_. He was unreal. She could feel his tamped-down desire in the slight tremble of his hand, in the wet press of the tip of his cock against her thigh. He bent and took her nipple in his mouth again, the fringe of his hair tickling her chest. He pressed on her hip until she rolled onto her back, and then he reached down and lifted her thigh, encouraging her to bend her knee and open for him. “I’ll never have another first time touching you here.” Then it was gentle strokes between her legs, not inside her yet, not focusing anywhere in particular, just touching and learning her body. Emma closed her eyes, trying to relax into the pleasure of it, but her hips had a mind of their own, lifting against his hand, chasing more and more and more.

“Tell me what you like, Emma.”

She didn’t open her eyes. “This. This is good.”

His nose pressed against her cheek as he muttered urgently to her. “Tell me, love.” His middle finger found her clit, and she gasped. “There. I know you like that. Do you like a light touch,” he asked, his finger making tiny circles, “or do you like it harder, rougher?” He shifted, pressing down with the heel of his hand, kneading her flesh, stimulating some deep and primal part of her. Emma moaned, a moan that was probably too loud for an inn run by wolves, but she couldn’t begin to care.

“What about inside you?” Killian continued, one finger trailing down and sliding in. He rutted against her side, his cock dragging along her hip, and it was the first sign of a break in his control since they’d gotten naked. “Do you like it like that?”

“More,” she gasped.

One finger became two, sliding in and out of her slowly. “Gods, you’re so wet, it’s driving me mad with wanting you,” he groaned.

“You’re the one…” she tried to say, trailing off in another breathy moan, “who wanted to go slow.”

“Aye, that I did.” He continued to fuck her with his fingers. “More?” She nodded quickly, and he added a third finger. “You like to be stretched open, Swan? So wanton and ready for me to fuck you. Is that what you need?”

 _God, yes._ “Yes.”

He pulled his hand away, leaving her empty and needy. As she reached over her head and grabbed the condom, he clutched her hip, wet fingers digging into her flesh. “I want…” his eyes flicked up to hers, almost bashful, which was ridiculous given the things he’d been saying. “I want to make sure I please you, Swan. If you need me to touch you while I’m inside you, tell me.”

Had any man ever asked her that? Actually _asked_ what she needed to get off? She didn’t think so. Ripping open the condom wrapper with her teeth, she spit out the bit of foil and concentrated on rolling it down his cock. If he was unfamiliar with the process, he gave no indication of it, his eyelashes fluttering as she touched him. Figuring his request deserved an honest answer in return, Emma took a deep breath. “Sometimes I do need a little extra stimulation,” she admitted, “but not always. I can come from just the fucking, sometimes.”

He moved on top of her, settling between her legs. “Duly noted,” he said, kissing her. She tried to kiss him back but she was smiling too much, because he was just so earnest about learning what she liked in bed, and it was probably the last thing she would have expected when he first swaggered into her life. Then he thrust his hips, his cock sliding across her clit, and she forgot to think at all.

“Fuck, _now_ , Killian.” She reached down and took him in her hand, guiding him to her entrance. He pushed, sliding in slowly, braced above her on his forearms. Harsh pants filled the space between them as they adjusted to each other.

“You all right?” he asked, his eyes opening and meeting hers. He was unmoving, and she could see the strain of it on his face.

“Yeah.” She raised one of her legs, curling it around him and settling her foot on the back of his calf. Her hands grasped at his ass, trying to pull him even deeper as her hips moved restlessly under him.

With an unintelligible groan, Killian started a slow rhythm, pulling halfway out before snapping his hips forward and burying himself deep once again. His pelvis hit her perfectly on every stroke, and it was so good. He was so fucking good, and it wasn’t until she saw his grin that she realized she had said some of that out loud. But she just smiled back, because they were finally having sex, after so many weeks of longing. She was having sex with Captain Hook, and she couldn’t be happier.

He kept up that perfect rhythm, that perfect thrusting that made her feel so full and so good. “Oh God, Killian, I’m … I’m gonna …” She couldn’t believe how quickly she was going to orgasm, it was almost too fast, but she was greedy for it, greedy for how amazing he was making her feel. When it hit her, she moaned shamelessly, eyes rolling back and fingernails digging into the muscles of his biceps.

Neither of them lasted long. He slowed at first, drawing out her pleasure, but as she started to come back to herself his thrusts sped up, lost their finesse, and it was no time before he was groaning his way through it, his teeth pressing into her shoulder, breath coming sharply through his nostrils.

She drifted in a haze of pleasure and happiness as he carefully pulled out, getting up and stumbling over the wastebasket to dispose of the condom. When he turned off the lamp and got back under the covers, Emma indulged in snuggling up close to him, her face pressed against his chest. She felt Killian’s deep sigh of contentment, his hand lazily stroking her back. It had been years since she’d done this, been this open after sex, allowing herself to just enjoy being close to a person that she had been intimate with. She wondered how soon he’d be ready for round two, and she grinned secretly to herself.

“That was…” he said, finally at a loss for words. Memories of Neverland, and the way his loneliness and longing had echoed her own, made her pull him closer.

“Yeah. It was.” She closed her eyes. Before she knew it, it would be morning, and she would have to figure out the best way to incorporate this deepening relationship with Killian into her life in Storybrooke. Threading her fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck, she wished she could stay inside this quiet bubble with him forever.


	2. Chapter 2

Killian awoke to the sound of water running in the sink of the bathroom. The room was dark, and he reached for the still-warm pillow beside him, smelling the scent of Emma’s shampoo on it. He smiled, remembering suddenly every detail of their coupling, of the warmth of her body beneath his, the way she had wanted, the way she had accepted him in every possible way.

The bathroom door opened and she emerged. He could just make out the pale shape of her as she crawled back under the covers, and he pulled her into his arms.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you,” she said.

“I’m glad you did. I needed more time to appreciate the fact that you’re in my bed.”

She laughed softly. “Oh yeah?”

“And if it turns out that I am having a particularly good dream, do me a favor and don’t wake me from it.” He curled his arm around her, his hand coming to rest across her ribcage. He could feel the swell of one of her breasts brushing against his thumb, and he moved his knuckle back and forth across it in a gentle caress.

Emma sighed and snuggled into him, her bottom pressing against his groin in a way that was decidedly arousing. “Okay,” she said through a yawn.

He resolved to let her go back to sleep, trying to will his body not to respond to her closeness, but the sensation of her skin combined with the scent of her was overwhelming. He could tell when she noticed his growing erection, her teasing wiggle forcing him to suppress a groan.

“My apologies, Swan, I’m unused to the touch of your skin against mine in so intimate a manner.”

Emma hummed, sounding somehow both amused and sultry. “Should I go cover myself in some flannel pajamas to make you more comfortable?” She shifted herself away from him, putting some space between them.

“Perish the thought.” He grabbed her hip and pulled her close again.

“That’s good, because I don’t have any pajamas here.”

“Perhaps we should rectify that,” he said, nuzzling her neck. “By which I mean, you are welcome to keep any belongings here that you choose to, if it would make your stays more convenient.”

He felt her tense up, and immediately regretted his words. If there was anything he’d learned about Emma Swan in the time he’d been courting her, it was that she was easily spooked by indications that their relationship was moving faster than she was prepared for. And he supposed that for her, sex was one thing, but keeping a few personal items in his room was quite another.

“Relax, Swan, I’m not asking you to move in,” he said in his most easy-going voice. “Just thought you might want to keep a toothbrush and some extra undergarments here, that’s all.”

She did relax a fraction, her exhale puffing out. “Sure, that’s not a bad idea,” she conceded. They lay together in silence for a while, his hand gently caressing her stomach. When she started speaking again, he held his breath, listening.

“I haven’t actually spent the night with anyone like this much. Even with Walsh it was rare, because I had Henry as a convenient excuse for why I had to run home.” He waited through another long pause. “It’s just, after Neal abandoned me, after everything… I didn’t want to put my trust in any man ever again. Get off and get gone, that was usually my philosophy when it came to sex.”

He pondered all of the meaningless tumbles he’d indulged in since losing Milah, understanding exactly what she meant. Those encounters tended to leave him physically satisfied but emotionally empty, and it struck him how different tonight had been. How complete he felt, holding Emma. He hadn’t told her yet, but Killian knew without a doubt that he was totally, hopelessly in love with her.

“I’m very glad you’re here. But if I’m ever moving too fast for you, Emma, just tell me.”

She turned and glanced over her shoulder. “We’re good, don’t worry. I’m here because I want to be.”

Quiet settled again, and Killian resumed his caressing of her abdomen until Emma took his hand in hers, threading their fingers together. “It’s a good thing I don’t have to go back and live in the Enchanted Forest now, though.” Emma laughed humorlessly. “Some princess I’d make, with a teenage pregnancy and a string of one-night stands behind me.”

He felt a quick stab of fury at Baelfire, and at anyone who would make Emma feel like less than what she was. Propping himself up on his elbow, he looked down at her as he spoke. “Given my past, it may not mean a lot coming from me, but I do not think any less of you for the life you’ve led. All I see is a woman who came from nothing and made herself into a hero.” Swallowing back an ill-timed confession of his love, he kissed her cheek gently. “And for what it’s worth, I’m certain your royal parents don’t think anything less of you either.”

Emma turned again and looked into his eyes, and he could see gratitude written plainly on her face before she craned her neck to kiss him. He inhaled, and then pulled away from her mouth to frown at her. “You’ve cleaned your teeth, that’s not fair.”

She shrugged and gave him an impudent grin. “I wanted to be prepared.”

With a groan, he pulled away from her and got out of bed. “Well, now I must do the same or risk offense. Pardon me a moment.” He walked across the room and into the small en-suite, closing the door with a soft click.

He glanced at his pale reflection under the harsh bathroom light ( _fluorescent_ , he remembered Emma had called it, this very white lighting that made everything look washed out and strange). He looked exhausted, he thought, his eyeliner mostly worn away, the days under the Dark One’s thrall leaving him hollowed out. Looking down at the stump at the end of his left arm, he marveled again at Emma’s easy acceptance of his body. He knew the rest of him was appealing (despite the baffling fashion of men with hairless chests he’d seen in magazines in this realm), and Emma being attracted to him physically was something he’d never doubted. But the way she had touched his uncovered arm, her desire unflagging, had taken his breath away. 

Hurriedly, he relieved himself and brushed his teeth before returning to the warmth of his bed and the woman waiting in it.

She was still facing toward the opposite wall, the curve of her back exposed to his greedy eyes. Slipping in behind her again, he pressed up against her, chuckling as she hissed.

“You’re cold now,” she complained.

“So warm me up.”

She hummed, again molding the curve of her backside against him as she had done before, her arm reaching to cradle the back of his head as she craned her neck around to kiss him. It was a simple press of lips at first, but then Emma opened her mouth and he was lost. Her tongue explored his mouth, so hot and slippery, and he suddenly wanted her so much he could hardly breathe.

Her body was a live wire next to his, rubbing against him, his cock pressed between her ass cheeks. The intimacy of it made him flush, his mind filled with images of things he wanted to do with her, _to_ her. His hand slid down almost without conscious thought, touching between her legs and making her gasp.

“Gods, Swan, you’re so…” His lips brushed against hers as he spoke, the words tripping out of his mouth and over hers.

“What?” she asked when he didn’t continue.

“Forgive me, but the only word I can summon is ‘fuckable.’”

“I’m fuckable?” she asked with a laugh, before lifting her right leg back over his and shifted against him, letting his cock come to rest between her thighs, and he shuddered at the thought of entering her like this, pounding into her from behind, pulling her hips back onto him over and over. Emma swiveled her pelvis, moaning as his erection brushed against the wetness between her legs. It was a teasing touch, without enough pressure to really satisfy either of them.

“Aye, that you most definitely are.”

She moved her right leg again, closing her thighs so that now when he thrust his hips forward, his cock dragged deliciously between them.

“Well maybe you should do that then,” she said, panting, taking her own pleasure from the way he stroked her with his fingers. Her hand continued to comb through the hair on the back of his head, nails scratching his scalp as she held on tighter.

He kept thrusting between her legs, waylaid by the pleasurable sensations, even though what she was offering would feel even better. “Do what, Swan?” he gritted out between clenched teeth, wanting to hear the word from her lips. “Say it.”

“Fuck me.”

He reached out blindly behind him for the nightstand, searching for the other condom Emma had left there, slapping his hand down a few times until he had it. He examined it, trying to determine the way she had opened the wrapper so easily. Modern packaging infuriated him, everything encased in hard plastic that even the point of his hook often couldn’t breach, but Emma had opened the other one easily with her teeth, and he found he was able to do the same.

“Here, I can help,” Emma said, turning over. She held the tip between her fingers and positioned it, allowing him to roll in on without difficulty. “You’re a pro at this already.”

“Well, I’ve always been a quick study when it comes to sex,” he said, making Emma roll her eyes and kiss him. He realized with a pang of disappointment that the business with the condom had gotten them out of the position he was so enjoying. “May I…?” He urged Emma to roll back over, and she went willingly. Moving her leg over his again, he reached down and adjusted the angle, rubbing the head of his cock against her. “Is this all right?”

“Oh yeah,” she said, bending a little at the waist and reaching back to help him find the right angle. He pushed, short thrusts that seated him inside her, and _gods_ , she was tight like this. He stopped moving, his fingers gripping her hip tightly to hold her still.

“You okay?”

“Just give me a moment, love.” He breathed deeply in and out, regaining some control of himself, before starting to slowly move inside her. “You feel wonderful,” he said against her hair.

“So do you.”

He reached over to touch her again, to help bring her to climax, but Emma pushed his hand away, her own fingers sliding down between her legs. “I’ve got it,” she said, and he shuddered at the thought of it, Emma pleasuring herself while he fucked her. Gripping her hip again, he drove into her faster, harder.

Every thrust brought the swell of her ass against his groin, her head tilted back against him, the long expanse of her neck tantalizingly out of the reach of his mouth, all of it an exquisite torture. He listened carefully to the sounds she made, the escalating gasps and moans that told him when she was getting close, and he struggled not to outpace her. His own voice joined hers as he lost his facility for words, only grunting with every hard slap of his hips into hers. They both surrendered themselves to the motion, the taking and giving of pleasure, climbing higher and reaching and finally falling together in a sweaty tangle of limbs.

Killian pulled out of her and rolled over, still breathing heavily. Emma seemed to sense that he was too tired to get out of bed, so she pulled a few tissues from the box on the opposite nightstand, and he wrapped the condom in them before dropping the mess on the floor to be dealt with later. They lay next to each other, looking up at the ceiling, chests heaving.

“I fear we may have woken Granny with that one,” he commented, and felt Emma cringe beside him.

“And she’s probably got wolf hearing like Ruby.”

“Aye.” With great effort, he rolled over and took her hand. “Not regretting coming here tonight, I hope?”

Emma smirked. “No.”

He brought her hand to his lips, unable to resist the urge to flick his tongue out and taste the remnants of her arousal lingering on her fingers. He suddenly regretted not spending any time tonight with his mouth between her legs; he would have to remedy that as soon as possible.

“Good. Because we’ve only barely scratched the surface of what our bodies can do together.”

~*~

He was usually an early riser, with no need for an alarm to awaken him, but as he struggled to free himself from sleep he saw that Emma was already up, moving around the room to gather her clothes.

“Leaving so soon?” He feared that she might already be regretting their night together, but then she looked at him and smiled and his worries melted away.

“Sorry, I’ve got to go home and shower and change before work.” She pulled her pants on, seemingly unconcerned that she was still mostly naked from the waist up, her breasts obscured by the thin corset ( _bra_ , he reminded himself) she wore. “Do you want to have dinner later?”

“I’d love to,” he said, watching her. “I’m sure I’ll be able to think of nothing else today but you.”

Her reaction to that was obscured by the sweater she was pulling on over her head, but he noted another smile on her lips as she pulled her jacket on. “I’ll call you when I’m done at the sheriff’s office, then.”

She hesitated, as if she wasn’t sure whether she should kiss him goodbye, and so he swept out of bed, naked as the day he was born.

“Until tonight, Swan.” Hand on her cheek, he kissed her in a brief, chaste touch of lips.

He felt slightly bereft as the door closed behind her. After a night of making love to Emma for the first time, he would have liked to have lounged in bed late, enjoying their newfound intimacy. Her rush to resume the routine of her daily life only highlighted for him that he was still adrift in Storybrooke. Now that there was no villain to battle, and with his ship lost to him, he had little to keep him occupied.

After going through his usual morning ablutions (perhaps with a little more care than usual as he thought about seeing Emma again that night), he ate breakfast downstairs, meeting Granny’s glares with a broad grin. Left with little else to do once his plates were cleared away, he exited the diner and ambled over to the library. At the very least, he could pass his time by reading.

The library seemed deserted when he walked through the heavy door, no one behind the front desk, but Killian figured if Belle weren’t here somewhere, the place would have been locked up. He ventured into the room, tapping his hook absently against the counter. “Belle?”

No answer.

His heels clicking on the marble floor, he made his way back into the stacks. He could probably still accomplish his task, leaving her a note with which books he borrowed. Whistling softly to himself, he made his way over to the fiction section.

As he pulled a book off the shelf to read the summary on the inside sleeve, he heard what he thought was a sniffle. “Belle? Is someone here?” Making his way down the aisle and looking down each of the rows of shelves, he finally came upon her, sitting on the floor at the end of one row, her head buried against her drawn-up knees.

The first thought that popped into his head was that she was ill, or hurt. “Belle!” He rushed to her side and crouched down. “Are you injured, lass? Can I help?” Belle raised her head, and he could tell that she had been crying, her eye makeup smeared and tear tracks on her cheeks, but otherwise she seemed unharmed. “I apologize, I fear I’ve intruded on you,” he said. “My presence must be most unwelcome. I’ll take my leave.”

“No, it’s fine,” Belle said, her voice raspy. “I did mean to have the library open today; I thought it would give me something else to focus on, but…” She shrugged. “It’s hard not to think about him.”

“Aye, I imagine it would be.” He stood up and offered Belle his hand. She paused, scrutinizing him for a second before taking it and letting him pull her to her feet. Killian watched as she wobbled briefly on her high heels before she gained her balance.

“Thanks, Killian. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have anything to apologize for, love. On the contrary, you saved my life yesterday, and I never got the chance to thank you for it. I hardly deserved such generosity from you.”

“I wouldn’t categorize it as generosity, just basic human decency.” She pulled her hand out of his and he could see her trying to shake off her sadness. “Can I help you find a book?”

“Aye, probably. I’m not looking for anything in particular, just something to occupy my time.” He shrugged, unaccountably embarrassed for his idleness. “I have little to do right now, it seems.”

“A long series of novels, perhaps?” She began scanning the shelves, and he was happy to see her mood visibly lighten as she focused on what he might like to read. Before too long, she had his arms loaded with books. He carried them over to the front desk so that she could check them out to him.

“I used to love spending the whole day wrapped up in a new book,” she said, her eyes downcast as she stamped the due date on the slip of paper inside each volume.

“Me too. But I should probably go and see Regina today, now that I think on it.”

“What for?”

He winced, scratching behind his ear. “That damnable wizard’s hat. Under the Crocodile’s orders, I trapped the fairies in it. I’m responsible for finding a way to get them out, and she’s probably my best option. Not that I look forward to the taunts and verbal barbs she will subject me to in the process.”

“Is there anything I can do?” she asked tentatively. “I feel responsible as well.”

“Love, you aren’t.”

“Be that as it may, I’d like to help if I can.”

He looked around the library. “Perhaps some research is in order? If we could learn more about the hat…”

“Then perhaps we can come up with a spell Regina could cast to get the fairies out of it,” Belle finished, a genuine smile on her face. “We could work together; we’re both pretty good at research.”

“I would be honored, Belle.”

~*~

The sheriff’s station was silent as Emma entered, no one waiting to complain about vandalism or overturned trash cans or iced-over objects (although those complaints had stopped recently). Only her father was there, fiddling with the coffee maker.

“Hey,” she said, gesturing with the to-go cup from Granny’s she clutched in her gloved hand. “Did you get that working?”

“Hey yourself. And no.” He sighed. “I guess we’ll probably have to break down and buy a new one.”

“I can take care of it,” Emma said, putting her cup and purse down and shrugging out of her coat. “Any calls this morning?”

“No, it’s been very quiet. I thought I’d go out on patrol in a little while, unless you feel like doing it today.”

Emma flopped down in a chair. “Knock yourself out, I’m exhausted.”

She didn’t realize the implication of what she had said until she saw her father’s lips pressed in a thin line of what looked like disapproval. Perhaps it was only disapproval at the fact that she had reminded him where she was last night, but disapproval all the same.

“Just… because of all the stuff that happened yesterday with Gold,” she added, smiling a guilty smile. “That’s all.”

“Uh huh.”

She thought about the confession she’d made to Killian in the wee hours of the morning, that she had looked at the princess role she was supposed to have fulfilled and found herself wanting. Her father had probably had all kinds of hopes and dreams for her, before she was born, and she couldn’t help wondering if he sometimes measured the reality of his daughter against those dreams. Certainly, what she now had to admit was a serious relationship with a pirate can’t have been part of what he’d wanted for her.

“Dad?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you ever imagine what I would have been like if Regina hadn’t cast the curse?”

He smiled, sitting down across from her. “Sure, I guess I’ve thought about it. But I knew you as the Emma that you are before I knew you were my daughter, so it’s not something I’ve ever dwelled on. Why?”

She shrugged. It wasn’t that Emma lacked confidence; she had been proud of who she’d become, how she’d overcome a childhood in the foster system and time in prison to end up with a decent job and an apartment and a credit rating. Now, she was proud of a whole set of different things: being a mother to Henry, learning to control her magic, and learning to be in what she hoped was a healthy romantic relationship. But something about her parents triggered her insecurities. Fears that they were disappointed in her, fears that they didn’t want her, tended to rise up unbidden.

She decided to answer David truthfully. “I just sometimes think that I’m probably not exactly the daughter you would have wished for.”

David looked stricken by that. “Why would you think that? I couldn’t have wished for a better daughter if I tried.”

Blushing, Emma snorted. “Yeah, criminal record, teen pregnancy—”

“Emma—”

“Dating a pirate…”

“Okay, well, I don’t _love_ that,” he said with a laugh. “Although you seem… happy. And I don’t think anyone can doubt that Hook is devoted to you.”

She snapped her teeth closed, surprised at her father’s admission. “Yeah,” she finally supplied.

“I gather things between you are getting serious. Or, well, I _hope_ that they are, if you’re… choosing to spend the night with him.” David was visibly uncomfortable, and Emma wanted to rescue him, but she wasn’t sure where he was going with his little speech. “Just don’t ever think that my love for you hinges on who you choose to date. If things don’t work out between the two of you, I will continue to love you and be proud of you. And if you end up marrying the bastard and having his babies, I will continue to love you and be proud of you. As long as you’re living a good life and doing what makes you happy, there’s no possible way I could be more proud of you.”

Tears pricked against the backs of her eyes. “Thanks, Dad.”

“Anytime.” He raised an eyebrow. “So, if I were to offer to punch Hook in the face if he ever hurts you, would that be patriarchal of me?”

Emma laughed. “I think I can punch him myself in the event that happens. But I appreciate the offer.”


	3. Chapter 3

Emma’s evening took an unexpected turn.

She’d gone back to the loft to freshen up after a long day of work, and found herself walking into a war zone. The baby was crying in her father’s arms, the place was an absolute mess, and she caught a glimpse of her mother rushing to the bathroom and slamming the door.

“Whoa, what the hell? Have we been robbed?” Emma asked, taking in the chaos as she pulled her coat and gloves off.

David bounced Neal up and down, clearly not amused. “Your mother came down with a stomach bug this afternoon. Would you mind watching Neal for a while so that I can clean up a little bit?”

Emma thought longingly of her boyfriend and their dinner plans. “Sure, no problem.” She held her arms out and accepted the fussing infant.

She walked a well-worn circle in the loft, singing softly to her brother until his cries faded to hiccupping little sobs, and then finally to silence as he fell asleep in her arms. Her father had the kitchen organized by that point and had offered to heat up some leftovers for them both, which Emma agreed to with a sigh. She continued walking with the same bouncy cadence, afraid that any change would wake Neal up, but she did carefully shift him so that she could pull her phone out of her pocket and call Killian.

“Hey.”

“Swan.” She could hear his pleased grin over the phone. “Ready for dinner?”

“I’m really sorry, but I can’t. My mom’s sick, and they need my help with the baby tonight. I’ve gotta stay here.”

“I’m sorry about your mother; is there anything I can do to help?”

She wanted to say yes, but mostly just because she wanted to see him. “I don’t think so. We seem to have it under control.”

“Perhaps we can reschedule for tomorrow, then?”

“Yeah, that would be good. Although I’ll have Henry tomorrow night.”

“No reason he can’t join us. You know I enjoy spending time with your boy.”

“I know.” She lowered her voice, even though David didn’t seem to be paying her any attention. “It just won’t be… you know. Like a date. And we definitely can’t… If Henry’s spending the night here, then I can’t spend the night there.”

“I assumed as much.”

“Well, you could sound a little more disappointed,” she said with a pout that was only half-joking.

“I just didn’t want you to feel bad about putting your family first. Believe me, every moment that I must wait to have you in my bed again will be the worst kind of torture.” The way he emphasized ‘have you’ made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.

“That’s more like it.”

He chuckled. “So I will talk to you tomorrow, then?”

“Yeah.” Emma hesitated, unsure how to end the call. “Bye, Killian.”

“Goodbye, love.”

She slipped her phone back in her pocket and looked up to see David giving her a slightly accusatory look. “You had a date.”

“And you needed my help,” Emma said, finally deciding to risk putting Neal down in his bassinet to give her arms a break. “Killian will still be there tomorrow.”

“Yes, I’ve come to grips with that fact,” he responded with an eye roll as he set the table with place settings for the two of them, but his warm smile showed that it was a protest more out of habit than actual ill will. “Anyway, thank you.”

Emma shrugged, sitting down at the table. “What are daughters for?”

~*~

If it was possible to spontaneously combust in a diner booth, Emma was going to do it.

First, there had been the way Killian had brushed his lips across her cheek as he joined her and Henry for dinner, his mouth lingering slightly longer than required. Just the scent of him made her want to jerk him out of the booth by the collar of his stupid leather jacket and drag him up to his room. Throughout dinner, she couldn’t focus on the conversation, getting distracted by the hairs on the back of his hand, or the way he licked his lips after taking a drink of beer. Watching him interact with her son and show genuine interest in his schoolwork shouldn’t have been a turn-on, but today it definitely was.

 _You’ve got it bad, Emma Swan_ , she thought, as Henry excused himself and went to the bathroom.

Granny dropped the check on their table, looking back and forth between the two of them. “Do you know what I did last night?”

“No, milady, what did you do?” Killian asked.

“Had an uninterrupted night of sleep. Unlike the night before. I don’t care what you get up to in my rooms, but do it silently.” With a dismissive wave of her hand, she walked away, leaving Killian chuckling as Emma covered her face and hoped for a portal to open up underneath their booth to swallow her whole.

“Oh my god,” she whispered. “She _did_ hear us.”

“Aye.”

Emma hurried to pay, rushing Henry out without dessert by promising him some ice cream back at the loft. Killian walked them to the door, saying goodnight to Henry as he dashed inside.

“Thank you for a lovely evening.” He took her hand and kissed it, his lips lingering again, his eyes full of promises that he wouldn’t be able to fulfill tonight.

No way was she going to settle for a kiss on the hand, not the way she was feeling. Grasping the lapels of his jacket, she pulled Killian in, and as he dropped her hand to wrap his arms around her, Emma dove in for a deep kiss.

Not that kissing him before had been innocent, but now it was all wrapped up in her head with fucking him, and she couldn’t taste his mouth without thinking about how harsh his breathing had been as he moved inside her, or how his wet mouth had felt on her breast. When they finally stopped kissing to breathe into each other, he seemed equally overcome.

“I really don’t want to say goodnight,” she whispered.

“Nor I.”

Emma sighed, slowly extracting herself from his arms. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” With one more regretful glance, he told her to sleep well and left her at the door.

She was able to take out some of her frustrations by shooting aliens with Henry on his Xbox for the rest of the evening, but when everyone went to bed, Henry in his usual place on the pull-out sofa downstairs, Emma was still keyed up and not at all tired. She sat cross-legged on her bed in her pajamas, picking up her phone and putting it back down again. Finally resolved, she grabbed it up for the last time and placed a call.

He answered after the third ring. “Hello, Swan.”

“You weren’t asleep, were you?”

“No, just reading.” She heard Killian settling — back into bed, perhaps. “Or rather, rereading the same paragraph over and over, distracted by thoughts of you.”

Emma lay back on her pillow, grinning to herself. It felt too ridiculous to say she missed him; she’d just seen him. “Everyone here is asleep, but I’m not sleepy.” She spoke softly so as not to be heard by anyone else in the loft, should they wake up.

“You could sneak out and join me here.”

“Yeah, because I’m in the running for the worst mother ever award.”

Killian laughed. “Well, your competition cursed everyone in town for twenty-eight years, so I think your chances of winning are slim. Nonetheless, I understand. I will just have to lie here alone and imagine you.”

“Imagining anything good?”

She could picture his eyebrow rising. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“Maybe I would, why don’t you tell me?” Emma screwed up her face in embarrassment. This was why she had called him, right?

There was a pause. “And what will you be doing while I tell you of all the things that have been occupying my mind?”

“I’ll…” She felt her cheeks flush. “This is a thing people do, you know,” she suddenly felt the need to explain.

“Talk about having sex over the phone?”

“I mean, people… you know. Get themselves off while talking about having sex over the phone. It’s called phone sex. I mean, people also do it by text, but you wouldn’t be able—”

“I can hardly hold onto this infernal device and my manhood at the same time, can I?”

She struggled not to laugh at ‘manhood’. “Press the speakerphone button. Remember, I showed it to you.”

After a bit of fumbling, he spoke again, the quality of his voice different. “Did that work?”

“Yep.” Emma got under the covers, curled up on her side, and pulled one of her pillows over her head. Was she really going to do this? “Just keep your voice down; don’t wake up Granny.”

“What about Henry and your parents?”

“I’ll be quiet.”

He chuckled. “If you’re going to be touching yourself, I don’t want you to be quiet. I want to hear every gasp from your lovely mouth.”

 _He is going to be amazing at this_ , she thought, sliding her hand under her pajama pants and underwear. “Next time, maybe.”

Killian cleared his throat, and she thought she could barely make out the sound of him stroking himself. “So what would you like to hear? That since the night you spent with me, I’ve hardly been able to think of anything else but what it was like to be inside you? That my mind wanders all the time to the way you looked that night in my bed, your skin flushed pink with desire? That I cannot wait until I can be with you again, until I can make you come apart under my tongue?”

She did not whimper. _Definitely_ not.

Gathering moisture with her fingers as she rubbed herself, Emma swallowed. “How would you make me come? Tell… tell me more about that.”

“My only regret about that night, darling, is that I didn’t take any time to explore you with my mouth.” There was a pause, and she heard the bed squeak and covers rustling as he perhaps got more comfortable. “Is that something you would enjoy?”

“Yes.”

“Then the next time we can be together, I’m going bury my head between your thighs. Do you know how badly I want to taste you, Emma? I used to think about it, long before you and I were together, lying here and touching myself just like this and imagining the way you would taste in that most secret of places. I’m going to spread you open and use my tongue to pleasure you. I’ll find all the ways that you like it, the perfect pressure and rhythm, the perfect spot to lick at you. My tongue and lips on you and my fingers filling you up until you cannot bear it, until you scream out for me, until your legs tremble and you climax so hard that you forget your own name.”

“Jesus _fuck_ , Killian.” Emma slid two of her fingers inside herself, the heel of her hand grinding down on her pelvic bone. “I’d want to return the favor then.”

He sucked in a breath. “Oh?”

“Yeah.” She took a deep breath of her own. Emma didn’t have a lot of experience with dirty talk, but part of being a good bail bondsperson was pretending confidence, and she drew on that now. “I’m gonna get on my knees and take your… cock in my mouth.” She hesitated on the term, but once she was past it, she started to warm to her narrative. “Run my tongue up the underside, over and over until you beg me to suck you.” Some distant part of her brain was shocked at the things she was saying, but she was too aroused to care.

“Yes,” he panted. She could hear his rhythmic strokes speed up. She matched the pace with her own hand.

“And then I’ll suck you like you want me to. Long, slow sucks in and out of my mouth, teasing you, and then harder and harder, taking you deeper. You’ll want to grab hold of my hair and fuck my mouth, it’ll feel so good, and then when you—”

The sound of him coming was unmistakable, even though he was very quiet. Still, she could hear him stifling his groans, could make out the skin-on-skin sound of him stroking his way through it, slowing down fractionally each time. Imagining it nudged Emma that much closer to her own orgasm.

“Did you—?”

“Aye. You?”

“Not yet,” she gritted out. “I’m close.”

“Fuck, I would give anything to see you right now, Swan. I want to watch you make yourself come. I want to see the way you like to touch yourself. I want to see your fingers disappear inside. I want to see the way you touch your hidden pearl until you fall apart. And I want to suck your fingers into my mouth afterwards and taste you. But I will settle for the sound of it. Think about the things my tongue and my cock will do to you when next we can be together, and come for me, love.”

It was the gravely lust in his voice that did it, and Emma’s inner muscles convulsed around her fingers; deep pulses that she felt everywhere. Her attempt to muffle her voice resulted in a rather undignified squeak, and she squeezed her eyes shut in a combination of embarrassment and relief.

They were both quiet for a few seconds as Emma took her hand out and wiped her fingers off on her pajama pants. She threw the pillow off of her sweaty face and sighed. “So…” she finally said. “Was it good for you?”

“Not as good as being with you, but a diverting way to spend the evening.” She heard him shift in the bed again. “But if the goal was to slake my desire, I fear you have failed. Hearing you describe… I desperately want to experience the real thing as soon as possible.”

“Yeah, me too.” Emma laughed softly. “At least maybe I’ll be able to sleep now.”

“Sleep well, love.”

“You too.”

~*~

“Shh, just hurry.” The bright sunlight through the window in his room reflected off on the mirror, blinding her temporarily.

His gravelly chuckle vibrated against the skin of her neck. “I made a promise, Swan, that the next time we were able to be alone together—”

“I have ten minutes, Killian.” Emma tried to push his jacket from his shoulders, almost ready to scream with frustration. “I still need to grab lunch; we don’t have time for all that.” She gave up on the jacket, as he didn’t seem inclined to help her, and zeroed in on his belt buckle. “I need—”

At last, he seemed to get with the program, jerking her leggings down with his hook and hand. As she kicked her boots off, he pulled open the drawer to his bedside table and pulled out a strip of condoms. There was more fumbling, with only the minimum of clothing removed before he entered her with a forceful push of his hips.

“Yes,” she hissed, wrapping her legs around him, the belt from his jeans pressing into her thighs. _Finally_. The next few minutes were a haze of grasping hands and scraping teeth, panting breaths and thrusting hips. Emma’s fingernails dug into the fabric of his shirt as she came, keeping as quiet as she could, even though she knew Granny would be busy in the diner with the lunch rush.

It felt sheepish, the way they pulled their clothes back on afterwards. “Sorry,” Emma said, “I know that wasn’t—”

Killian laughed. “Did you truly apologize for _that_?” His hand went through his hair, disheveling it in a way that made her want to push him back onto the bed, and _Jesus, get a hold of yourself_ , she thought furiously.

“I know. But it wasn’t the way you wanted it to be.”

He cupped her face with his hand, and she kind of hated how into that she was, the way his hand felt so large when it spanned her cheek. “There will be time enough for all of that, Swan. Worry not. Come, I’ll buy you lunch.”

The diner was crowded, most of the dwarves clustered at the counter and several other residents that Emma only knew well enough to say hello to filling the booths. Standing there near the register, she felt like everyone was looking at them, and that it was painfully obvious that they’d just had sex. She straightened her ponytail self-consciously. “Let’s get food to go and take it back to the sheriff’s station.”

Killian glanced around at the full diner. “Good idea.”

~*~

He tapped on the door to the loft with his hook, hand absently fiddling with this belt. Killian Jones considered himself to be a brave man, able to face down superior foes with a flourish of his sword and a humorous quip from his lips, but tonight, faced with a dinner in the home of Emma’s parents, he did not feel particularly brave.

Snow opened the door, baby Neal on her hip, and smiled. “Killian, glad you could make it. Come on in.”

He nodded his head in a small bow and followed her into the warm apartment. Henry was sitting on the sofa, doing something with the television, and Emma was over at the stove with her father, tasting from a large spoon and offering her opinion. It was a cozy family scene, and he felt very out-of-place. It was _this_ , he thought, even more than Emma’s affection, that he felt like he didn’t deserve.

“You can hang your coat by the door,” Snow was saying as she put Neal into a swinging contraption he’d noticed her using before. “I’m going to help get dinner on the table. Make yourself comfortable.”

Obeying her directions, Killian ambled over to Henry and sat down next to him. Henry’s hands moved quickly over the device in his hand, while on the television, flashes of images Killian could hardly decipher assaulted his eyes. Infernal monsters exploded into a cascade of numbers, seemingly from a weapon that occupied the foreground of the screen.

“Hey, Killian, give me just a second,” Henry said, his eyes never wavering from their focus. The enter screen went red then, and Henry threw up his hands, groaning in frustration.

“Was that bad?” Killian asked him.

“Yeah, I died.” He reached over and turned off his electronic devices. “What’s up? I heard you’ve been researching the wizard’s hat with Belle.”

“Aye, our work is occupying most of my days. We haven’t found anything useful yet, though.” Guilt flared in his chest, and he grimaced at Henry.

“I’m sure you will. I wish the weather would warm up so that we could go sailing again. I miss our lessons.”

Killian was touched that Henry felt that way. “So do I.”

“Dinner is served, everybody,” David called.

The meal was a pleasant one, and any apprehension that Killian had felt melted away in the face of the family’s laughter and comfortable conversation. For the moment he could forget his guilt and enjoy himself. A few times he caught Emma watching him, and saw her blush and reach for her wine. It added a small tingle of excitement to his happiness to see his own affection reflected back in his love’s eyes.

They were lingering over their wine when there was a knock at the door. Henry went to answer it, opening the door to reveal Belle.

“I’m so sorry to interrupt your dinner, but Killian mentioned he would be here,” she said.

“Don’t be silly, Belle, you’re always welcome.” Snow got up from the table and gestured to her. “Come sit with us. Would you like a glass of wine?”

“No, thank you. I actually found something, and I didn’t want it to wait until morning.” She had a thick, leather-bound book clutched in her arms, and she opened it on the table in front of Killian and pointed to a section. “See this?”

He skimmed the words she was referring to; unfortunately they seemed all too familiar. “Right, ‘no potion may free one thusly trapped’,” he read aloud. “We’ve seen those words before.”

“Yes, and doesn’t it seem weird that they keep emphasizing that it’s not a potion? They don’t say it couldn’t be an incantation, or another type of magical object,” Belle said, her voice filled with restrained excitement; whether or not they were able to free the fairies, Killian was thrilled to see her looking happy for once. “So I read on, and found this.” She flipped over several pages and pointed to an engraving of a crystal.

Killian read the caption. “‘A crystal specifically cut to counteract entrapment spells involving magical objects’.” He looked up at her. “Sounds very promising, but how would we ever find it?”

“That’s the thing: I think it might be in New York.”

Emma perked up. “New York? How do you know that?”

Belle grinned. “I googled it. I found an old web site that seemed to indicate it was being held in the archives at the main branch of the New York Public Library, although that was at least a decade ago.”

“It might still be there,” David mused. “Can you call them?”

“I did, but they weren’t able to give me any details over the phone. They said for the archive I was interested in, they would only handle in-person requests.”

“Well, _I_ could go,” Emma murmured, and then jolted out of her chair, her eyes widening. “Killian and I could go. There’s nothing stopping us from coming and going from Storybrooke as we please now that the ice wall is down.” She paced across the room, seemingly too excited to sit still.

“To New York City?” Killian asked, remembering the crushing disappointment of an Emma who didn’t know him and the taste of a cold bologna sandwich in a jail cell. “Not exactly my favorite locale in this realm,” he said as he joined her over by the sofa.

“Think about it for a minute,” she murmured as Henry asked Belle a question about something in the book she’d brought. “Just you and me, away from Storybrooke for a few days, in a hotel room nowhere near any innkeepers with insanely good hearing, or nosy family members, or anyone to bother us.”

“I take it back, Swan. My favorite locale in this realm is anywhere that you happen to be.” Killian felt his mouth stretch into a wide smile. “Let’s sail away.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come say hi on tumblr! unfolded73.tumblr.com


	4. Chapter 4

“I’m surprised Henry didn’t want to join you,” Snow commented as she sat down on the bed next to Emma’s open suitcase.

Emma cringed. “He did. First, I said he couldn’t miss school, but he pointed out that it would only be a couple of days and he could make up the work. Then, I said that it would cut into Regina’s week with him, and he claimed that he could easily talk her into it.” She paused, staring into an open drawer, feeling a flush of guilt. “I finally had to admit that I wanted it to be a romantic trip, just me and Killian.” Pulling out a pair of jeans, she turned back to her mother. “He seemed to understand, but it made me feel like the worst mother on the planet.”

“I know you want to make up for all the time you’ve missed with your son; believe me, I know,” Snow said, “but it doesn’t mean you can’t occasionally prioritize other people in your life.”

“I guess. But it feels so selfish. Killian and I are good right now, _really_ good, and I just… want this. I want him to myself for a little while, before the next crisis.”

“Maybe there won't be another crisis,” Snow said, making Emma roll her eyes as she dug through her closet. There was always another crisis. “Anyway, you're allowed to want things, and I for one am glad you're going.”

“ _There_ it is! I couldn't remember if I even kept this dress,” Emma said, pulling the tight red dress out and holding it up to her body. 

“Wow. I've never seen you wear that,” her mother commented.

“I haven't since I came to Storybrooke. Last time I wore this, I was going after a skip in Boston.” She folded it carefully and put it in the suitcase, and then dove back into the closet for shoes.

“You do remember the purpose of this trip is to look for a magical crystal at the library.”

“I know, but if while we’re there, we happen to find time to go out for a nice dinner…” Emma tossed some high heels in the bag and shrugged. “Well, that’s a bonus.”

“Does Hook even _have_ a suitcase?” Snow asked.

“I bought him a duffel bag.”

“Things are getting pretty serious between you two,” Snow said, leaning back on the headboard of Emma’s bed and crossing her arms.

“Because I bought him a duffel bag?”

“No, not because you bought him a duffel bag. But you certainly aren’t holding him at arm’s length like you were before. And watching the two of you together, it’s pretty obvious how in love with each other you are.”

Emma dropped her makeup bag on the bed and held up her hands. “Whoa, let’s not get carried away. We’re dating; we’re having a good time. Don’t make it all…” Her neck prickled with discomfort, and the room started to feel a little too warm.

“All what?”

“Just… don’t make it out to be more than it is.”

“Emma. Are you seriously going to look me in the eyes and tell me that Hook doesn’t love you?”

She wiped her sweaty palms off on her jeans and turned away. “Can’t I go out with a guy without you trying to turn it into a true love, get-married-and-have-babies thing? It may have worked that way for you, but you and Dad are the exception, not the rule.”

“You’re avoiding the question.”

“Yep.” She turned around and held up a shirt. “Do you like this top? I think I’m having buyer’s remorse.”

“It’s fine.” Snow sighed, and Emma could see the moment she decided to drop it. Her own shoulders relaxed in response. “You’ve packed plenty of condoms?”

“ _Mom_.”

“I’m just asking.”

“I packed some, so don’t text me any more eggplant emojis.”

Snow grinned. “I thought you’d think that was cute. I love emojis.”

“I know you do.”

“You know, if I were just your friend Mary Margaret, I’d ask you if he was good in bed.”

Emma snorted. “I haven’t exactly had the time to do a thorough survey of his skills.” She dug through her underwear drawer, rejecting a few somewhat threadbare pairs. “Thus this trip.”

“But so far?”

She kept her face averted to hide her blush. “He’s good.” 

As if on cue, there was a knock on the door downstairs. “Speak of the devil,” Emma said, turning and pointing a finger at her mother. “Can you let him in while I finish packing? Don’t say anything to him about, you know, _any_ of the things we’ve been talking about.”

“I won’t, I won’t,” Snow said with a smirk as she went down the stairs. 

Emma listened to Snow offering Killian coffee and making small talk while she quickly jammed a few more things in her suitcase and tried to ignore the knot of anxiety in her stomach that talking with her mother had created. With a shaky exhale, she zipped her suitcase closed and carried it down to join them.

“Ready, love?” Killian gave her a warm smile and a kiss on the cheek, while Snow gave her a knowing look from the kitchen.

“Yep.” She glanced down at his hook. “Oh, did you remember to bring your prosthetic hand? I know, I don’t love it either,” she said off of his pouty frown, “but you can’t go around with the hook outside of Storybr—”

“It’s in my bag, Swan, settle down.”

“Okay. Oh, wait, one more thing.” She turned to Snow. “Mom, you have a Maine driver’s licence, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Can I see it for a second?”

Sitting down at the kitchen table with her mother’s license, Emma stared at it, taking in all the details.

“Swan, what are you—”

“Shhh. I’m concentrating.” She closed her eyes, drew on her magic, and waved her hand over the table. Then she opened her eyes and seeing the result of her spell, punched the air. “Yes!”

“What did you do?” Snow asked.

“A duplication spell Regina taught me, but look!” She held up a second license proudly, so that they could see Killian’s name and picture on it. “Listen, this does _not_ mean you should drive,” she said standing up and handing it to Killian. “You don’t know how to drive a car, and if you try to drive a car, I’ll have to arrest you.”

His eyebrows waggled at her. “Promise?”

“ _You’re_ the one making fake IDs, Emma,” Snow pointed out with a grin.

“Stop it, both of you. This is in case you get carded in New York.”

“What’s ‘carded’? And why does it say I’m…” He counted to himself briefly. “35 years old?”

Emma picked up her suitcase up. “What did you expect it to say, that you’re 300?”

“Are you saying I look 35?” He whined as he followed her out the door.

“Just keep that in your pocket and don’t lose it.”

“Have fun, you two!” Snow called.

~*~

“Where do all the signs along the roadway come from?” Killian asked as they passed one of the exit signs on the Maine turnpike. 

“I guess people who work for the state of Maine put them up.” She took a sip of her coffee.

“It’s all very organized, isn’t it? Signs to count the miles, signs to indicate where the fuel and food are, signs to indicate attractions along the way, all in perfectly precise lettering. I found it all quite remarkable when you drove me back to Storybrooke with Henry, but since Henry didn’t have his memories at the time, I couldn’t let on.”

“How did you get to New York in the first place, that time?”

“The magic bean brought me straight to you, love. No travel required.”

“Handy,” she said, sitting forward a bit and stretching her neck side-to-side. “We could use one of those now.”

“Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. My old car doesn’t have the most comfortable seats; sorry about that.”

“I don’t have much basis for comparison, darling. And it’s more comfortable than most of the places you can sit on a sailing ship, even one as lovely as mine was.” 

The wistful tone in his voice made her flinch. It was still hard for her to accept the fact that he’d given up so much to bring her home. She wondered, as happy as he seemed to be with the way things had turned out, if he ever regretted it.

“I hardly ever got to go on trips as a kid,” she said to fill the silence. “Never when I was living in group homes, of course, and it’s not like most of my foster parents had the money to spend on vacations.”

“I can’t say I remember life without being on a ship destined for one port or another. Not that those voyages were for enjoyment, not until I was in command of the _Jolly Roger_ and could take her where I chose.” He tapped his prosthetic hand on his knee.

“You know what we should do?” Emma said. “Each of us should think of one happy story from our unhappy childhoods and tell them to each other.”

Killian laughed; it was a sharp, quick bark of a laugh that made Emma jump. “You know what? You’re right, we should do that. It may take me a bit to think of one though. Have you a happy story to share?”

Emma pondered for a minute, and then smiled. “When I was nine years old, I was with this big foster family. Five kids, and the parents were overwhelmed, and a lot of the time we had to fend for ourselves when it came to meals.”

“This doesn’t sound like a happy story, Swan.”

“Just wait for it. I wasn’t allowed to use the stove, so usually I made myself a peanut butter sandwich, but I was sick to death of peanut butter sandwiches. What I really wanted was a grilled cheese. I knew how to make one; I needed to heat up a pan, and I needed butter, bread and cheese. I knew I could do it. So one day, when no one was supervising me, I decided screw the rules, I’m making myself a grilled cheese.”

“That’s the Swan I know.”

“The thing was, I had no idea how much butter to use. So I took a whole stick of it — you’ve seen how big a stick of butter is, right? I took a whole stick of it and unwrapped it and put it in the pan. I let the butter melt, and then I put my cheese on the bread and I cooked my sandwich. And do you know what?”

“It was soaked with butter?” Killian asked.

“It was the best fucking thing I’d ever tasted.” She laughed, glancing away from the road to see Killian smiling warmly at her. “It’s probably still the best thing I’ve ever tasted, because I was so proud of myself, and I didn’t get caught, even though I must’ve smeared my butter hands all over everything after I ate it. My love of grilled cheese sandwiches now is just me chasing that dragon, looking for a sandwich that tastes as good as that one did.”

“A sandwich born out of that sense of accomplishment combined with the thrill of a successful heist will likely never come again, love.”

“Not to mention, no adult in their right mind would ever use that much butter.”

“Too right. Well done, Swan, that was a happy story.”

She beamed at him. “Okay, hit me up, pirate. Tell me your tale.”

He thought for a few seconds. “When I was six years old, we spent a few months in a village where my father was tending the bar at a local tavern. We weren’t there long; we were never anywhere long before my father would gamble or drink himself into debt and we had to pick up everything and move. But while we were there, before things turned bad, he bought me a little wooden toy boat. It would float on top of the water in my bath, but even better, I could take it down to the pond that was about a half mile from the tavern and float it on the water there. It was easily the best toy I’d ever had.”

Emma thought about little Killian, carrying his boat down to the local pond to play, and her eyes immediately filled with tears. She kept her gaze trained on the road so he wouldn’t see.

“One day, I was at the pond when these older boys began to harass me. They pushed me down in the mud, called me names, and held the boat above my head, taunting me with it. I finally had to run home without it.”

“This is the worst happy story I’ve ever heard.”

“Shush. As I was saying, I ran home, all muddy and crying, and immediately ran into Liam. Now Liam was at an age where he considered himself to be above playing with me a lot of the time, and in my state, I thought I was in for more taunting from him when I told him what had happened. But instead he marched down to the pond—”

“And got your toy boat back?” Emma asked.

“And got a beating from the miscreants who’d assaulted me.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “Seriously? _This_ is your happy story?”

“Yes, because it taught me that no matter how much he teased me, no matter how hard he was on me, my brother always had my back when it mattered. And that’s something that never changed for as long as he lived.”

“That’s a wonderful sentiment,” Emma said, signaling to pass another car, “but as a happy story, that one sucked. I win.”

“I’m sorry, was this a _contest_?”

“Of course it’s a contest, and I’m winning.” They crossed onto the Piscataqua Bridge, zipping past a sign announcing _Welcome to New Hampshire_. “Next round is grossest story; you have ten minutes to think about it.”

~*~

They got to their hotel room after the sun had set, and Emma was tired after a long day of driving, but a thrill ran through her all the same as the elevator doors of the lower Manhattan Marriott closed behind them. They were alone, far away from everyone who knew them, surrounded by a city of people who didn’t have any interest in them or their relationship. It felt very freeing.

They found their room, and Killian stood close behind her and watched as she slid the keycard into the lock and opened the door. 

“I specifically requested a room with a view of the harbor,” she said as they walked into the darkened space, past the pale expanse of a massive king-sized bed. “I thought you might like it.” It had been an extravagance for Emma, but with little to spend her sheriff’s salary on in Storybrooke, she was starting to collect quite a savings for the first time in her life, and it seemed a good time to spend some of it. She strode past the bed and pulled the gauzy curtains aside to reveal the panoramic view from the window. Killian joined her to gaze out at the sparkling lights of the city and the strip of dark water beyond. “The harbor view will be better in daylight, obviously.”

“It’s wonderful.” He put his arm around her, his hand spanning across her stomach. “I’m glad we came.”

His nearness made Emma feel a little dizzy, and she debated pulling him down onto the bed right then and there. “I’m going to jump in the shower; do you mind? I feel gross.”

“Of course not, love.” He brushed his lips across her hair. “I could do with bathing myself.”

The thought occurred to her to invite him into the shower with her, but at that moment, after several hours in the car together, she felt the need for a tiny bit of solitude. With a kiss on his cheek, she turned on a lamp for him and closed herself in the bathroom.

The hot shower soothed her aching muscles and perked her up considerably. She returned to the main room to find Killian sitting on the chaise in the corner, flipping through a tourist magazine. When he looked up and saw her in only a towel, the expression on his face was gratifying.

“Hello, beautiful.” He stood and closed the distance between them in two long strides, but when she expected him to touch her, he simply moved his hand just above the skin of her bare shoulder, almost but not quite letting his palm settle on her. Emma shivered in response. He leaned down, bringing his mouth near hers, breathing out over her lips. There was a reverence, a slowness to it that was quite different from the rush into bed that she had anticipated when she imagined this moment. 

Without letting himself kiss her, Killian stepped back. “I’ll go take my shower now.” With a small nod, he excused himself.

“ _Asshole_ ,” Emma whispered fondly. Tucking the end of her towel more snugly around her breasts, she turned her attention to her suitcase. As she heard the shower turn on, she busied herself with tucking her few items of clothing into one of the drawers and hanging her red dress in the closet. She went over to the bed and picked up Killian’s leather jacket from where he had dropped it, and as she did a folded piece of paper fell out of the breast pocket.

She didn’t mean to be a snoop, but reading “Storybrooke General Hospital” across the top had her unfolding the paper before she could even think twice about it. 

Emma was still studying it when Killian came out of the bathroom, catching her red-handed.

“I’m so sorry, this fell out of your pocket when I moved your jacket, and… and I am the worst person ever. I should not have read this.” She held the paper out to him, shame-faced.

Killian clutched the towel slung low around his hips, giving her a confused look. “It’s no problem, Swan, I was going to show it to you anyway.”

She pulled her hand back, looking at the printout again. “I didn’t think you’d even know how to get tested for STDs.”

He shrugged. “I knew it was something that concerned you, so I asked that Doctor Whale. It was a simple matter. Of course, if you are more comfortable with the condoms, we can continue to use them, I don’t mean to pressure you.”

Emma took one last look at the long column of negatives before setting the paper aside. “What about me? You may have forgotten, but I apparently slept with a flying monkey.”

“That’s a good point, Swan, you should probably get tested,” he said with a half-smile.

She waved her hand in a dismissive gesture. “I already did, a while ago. Before you and me.”

“Ah.” He began to approach her. “Anyway, as I said, it’s your choice.”

Emma’s heart started to speed up again. “It’s kind of a big step in this world, to throw out the condoms. It means we’re being exclusive.”

Killian stopped when he was standing close to her, his fingers softly brushing the skin of her chest above her towel. “I couldn’t possibly have less interest in taking anyone else to bed but you, Emma.” 

Meeting his gaze, she grinned. “Wasn’t sure if you were even interested in _that_ , the way you left me hanging after I got out of the shower.”

With a tug, Killian pulled her towel free, dropping it to the floor. “Lie down on the bed, love, and I’ll show you how _interested_ I am.” He pulled the bedspread back and gestured to her with an exaggerated bow. 

The lamp was still on, and Emma felt very exposed as she laid herself out on the perfectly white sheets. He was watching her so carefully, studying her almost, and the scrutiny was keying her up even more. Dropping his own towel, Killian crawled up onto the bed with her, still avoiding the temptation to touch. Emma reached for him and tried to pull him down, but he resisted her, shaking his head. 

“I’m going to take my time, love.” He straddled her hips with his knees, and Emma drank in the sight of his lithe body; trying to decide where to look first. He bent over then and kissed her neck, his lips and tongue gentle on her skin, and she tilted her head back and combed her fingers through his damp hair as he worked. Slowly he trailed down her neck to the junction with her shoulder; soft, wet kisses that were making her writhe underneath him, desperate for more. He traveled further down then to her breasts, and a sharp suck of one of her nipples into his mouth made Emma moan.

His desire for her was evident in how hard he was, she could see it plainly, but his methodical motions, the slow, wet pressing of his tongue against her skin didn’t betray any impatience. He spent time on each of her breasts until Emma was practically whimpering with want, pressing her thighs together to try to get some relief. When he moved down her body, nudging her legs apart so that he could position himself between them, she almost breathed a sigh of relief, but his mouth stayed in more innocent territory, sucking gently at her stomach, gradually coming closer and closer to the needy ache between her legs.

It was the scrape of his teeth on her hipbone that snapped the last thread of her control, making her buck up from the mattress. “Please,” she gasped, too far gone to care what he thought.

She imagined he might tease her, or ask her to beg him for exactly what she wanted, but he didn’t. He just settled down between her legs, and perhaps she should have been embarrassed at the way he was examining this intimate part of her, but she was too aroused to care. It wasn’t until she felt the touch of his right hand and left wrist, pressing against the insides of her thighs to open her wider, that it even occurred to her to notice that of course his brace was off again, as it had been their first night together. That fact hadn’t even registered with her until now.

She felt the first touch of his tongue at her opening before he licked up, catching her clit before pulling away. Another gasp came out of her mouth.

Killian wrapped his left arm around her leg, anchoring her to the bed as he continued to press against her inner thigh with his hand. “Beautiful,” he murmured, and she could feel his breath on her skin. “Absolutely beautiful.”

He went to work on her then; plunging into her with his tongue, kissing her almost like he would kiss her mouth, and then focusing on her clit, pulsing against it with fluttery licks in a complicated rhythm. She choked back a moan, gripping the sheets in her fists.

“Let me hear you, love,” he said, and she glanced down to see him looking at her, his mouth glistening with her wetness. “I need to learn what you like. How best to please you.”

She giggled, actually _giggled_. “Oh, you’re pleasing me.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Good. So let me hear it.”

She wasn’t going to make sex noises because he told her to, she _wasn’t_. But then he pressed the flat of his tongue against her at the same time that he slid his fingers inside, and her moans were pretty much out of her control. Whatever noise she made, he responded to it, working her up and up with laps of his tongue as he fucked her with his fingers, and she floated, lost to the sensations. The hotel room and the whole damn city fell away and it was just her and it was him and it was the sparks of feelings throughout her body, radiating out from her center and filling her up with warmth and ecstasy. She fell into the rhythm he’d set, her hips moving, fucking herself on his fingers and pressing harder, letting him press harder, letting him devour her. When she came, it was like all the cliches of fireworks and shattering glass and death all rolled into one.

Her awareness bled back in as the sound of Killian’s satisfied chuckle met her ears. He wiped his mouth off on her thigh before moving over her. “Brilliant,” he said.

“Yeah.” With a deep breath, she started to sit up. “Here, lie down, let me—” He stopped her.

“Can I…?” Killian smiled a tiny, awkward smile. “I don’t want to discourage you from using your mouth on me, _please_ don’t mistake me, but right now I want to be inside you.”

Emma’s stomach swooped in response to the vulnerability she heard in his voice. “Okay.”

“Let me get a condom,” he said.

“No.” She pulled him down closer. “We don’t need it.”

“Are you certain?”

Emma pressed her forehead against his and nodded. With a broken little moan, he thrust against her. Reaching between them, she took his cock in her hand and guided him in.

She was so pliant and wet after all his attentions, and Killian slid into her to the hilt in one push. “Bloody _hell_ , Emma. You feel…” His panting breaths ghosted across her shoulder as he tried to rein himself in. But she didn’t want him to hold back, she wanted to see him take what he needed, unrestrained. Emma reached down and clutched at his ass, urging him on.

Deep, long thrusts followed. Emma was still buzzing from the orgasm he’d given her with his mouth, but he felt so good inside her, she thought she might actually be able to come again if he could hold out long enough. Just the sound of his voice, moaning with every push of his hips, was doing amazing things to her. 

Then Killian lifted his head from her shoulder, their eyes meeting. He was so open, so exposed, and the look on his face could mean only one thing: _I love you_. Being confronted with the depth of his feelings was like being doused in cold water, and she lifted her head and pressed her face into his neck to hide from his raw emotions. 

“ _Fuck_...Emma...I can’t…” Killian panted, trailing off in a groan as his climax took him. Emma held on tight to his shoulders, her eyes squeezed shut, letting him ride it out. 

“Sorry,” he gasped as he finally lifted away from her. “I wanted to get you there again, but it felt too…” He lay down at her side, his hand trailing down her stomach. 

Emma forced a small laugh. “You’re being greedy. I’m plenty satisfied.”

He nuzzled against her face, and she could feel the stretch of his smile. “Still,” he said with a raspy bedroom voice, “I can do better. I just need to get used to how incredible you feel.”

He sounded so _happy_ , and a part of Emma wanted to sink down into that ocean of contentment along with him. But another part of her was terrified by how deep she’d already gotten. She’d spent so many years shielding herself from the possibility of heartbreak, and now here she was, more vulnerable to it than she may have ever been in her life.

“I’m gonna go clean up,” she said, slipping out of bed to go to the bathroom. When she returned, Killian had fallen asleep, and Emma breathed a sigh of relief.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This chapter contains some hook play of a sexual nature, so if that’s not your thing, sorry. Also, drunk sex occurs, although there is clear verbal consent. Oh, and finally the macguffin almost makes an appearance in this chapter! (That’s not a warning, it’s just a thing that happens.)

“What are you doing?” She had cracked one eye open in the early morning light, enough to see Killian standing over by the window. “If anyone in the building across the way is looking out, they’re gonna get an eyeful of you, standing there naked.”

“And it will be a fortunate start to the day for anyone who happens to do so,” he answered, turning and sauntering back to the bed. “I was admiring the view of the harbor in daylight,” he explained. “Truly, this city has more to recommend it than I once thought, but perhaps that’s just the company.”

Emma rolled away from him, covering her head with a pillow. “Go back to sleep, it’s still early.”

“Nonsense, it’s half seven; well past time to be up and about. What time does the library open?”

“Not until ten.”

“Ah. Well, plenty of time for breakfast, then.”

With a groan, Emma dragged herself out of bed to use the bathroom. Brushing her teeth, she regarded her naked body in the mirror, thinking about the way the intimacy of the night before had freaked her out. It’s not that she hadn’t been aware, on some level, how deep Killian’s feelings ran. And he’d certainly looked at her before in ways that exposed what was in his heart. But something about seeing it in that moment made her know it in a way that she hadn’t before. He loved her. He was probably only holding himself back from saying so because he always let her lead.

She returned to the room to see Killian still lounging on the bed without a stitch on, a book now open in his hand. He looked up at her and smiled, and it immediately made her heartbeat speed up. Regardless of how reluctant she was to put a name to all of her feelings for him, there was no question that lust was always among them.

“It occurs to me,” she said as she curled up next to him, “that only one of us has had a chance to follow through on our phone sex promises.”

One of his eyebrows went up. “That’s true.”

She leaned over and kissed him, and was vaguely aware of his book hitting the floor before he drew her into his arms. Emma closed her eyes, leaving aside all of her doubts so that she could focus on how very much she enjoyed kissing this man. She liked everything about it; how soft his lips were and the way he tasted and the things he did with his tongue.

“You don’t have to feel obligated, you know,” he murmured against her mouth.

“I don’t feel _obligated_. I want to… if that’s okay with you.”

His laugh was breathy. “That’s definitely okay with me.”

With a final kiss to his lips, Emma started to work her way down his body as he had done to her the night before. She paused to enjoy the stretch of the tendons in his neck under her lips as he let his head fall back. Dragging her nose through his chest hair, she kissed him gently as she backed up toward the foot of the bed. Killian’s fingers threaded through her hair, and she could feel the press of his fingertips against her scalp. Finally, she positioned herself over his cock, letting her cheek drag against it and smiling when he moaned.

Feeling the need for a little bit of payback after the way he had teased her, she paused and breathed over him, her mouth almost but not quite touching his skin. She could feel the tension in his legs and in his hand on her head. . 

The first flick of her tongue against his cock made his hips buck up off the bed, and she pulled back and gave him a teasing glare. “Be still,” she told him, pressing down on his hipbone.

“Forgive me, love.”

She wrapped her hand around the base of his erection and bent over again, closing her lips around the head and dragging her tongue across his smooth skin. He groaned, sounding completely wrecked already, and Emma felt her own arousal flare up in response. She took her time, slow licks and sucks that brought him deeper into her mouth with every pass. The hand in her hair stayed gentle, but she could sense his restraint. Glancing up, she watched as his chest rose and fell with his rapid breathing, the cords of his neck standing out in gorgeously high relief. He was a work of art like this.

Matching the speed of her rising and falling mouth to the flexing rhythm of his pelvis, Emma let her own hips lower until she was practically riding his leg, grinding against his shin. Killian gasped, strained moans issuing from between his clenched teeth. She felt him get harder in her mouth, and even though her back was starting to ache, she kept going, kept giving him what he needed until he came with a shout, his back bowing off the bed with the force of his orgasm. 

She held him in her mouth until the pulses of his cock stopped, then pulled off slowly and swallowed the briny taste of him as she crawled up the bed and lay down at his side. Thinking he might doze off, she pulled the covers back over them both and curled into his body, her hand resting on his chest. But with a quick movement, he rolled toward her and kissed her passionately, his tongue in her mouth and his hand clutching her ass.

“You are bloody amazing, woman.”

Emma grinned. “I know.”

His hand moved around and slid between her legs, and Killian hummed with satisfaction at the way his fingers skated through her wet folds.

“You _did_ like that.”

“Yeah,” she said, and there was a feminist lecture on the tip of her tongue about how women could enjoy sucking cock, it was _allowed_ , but then his fingers plunged inside her and his thumb started working her clit and she decided the lecture could wait. She rode his hand, kissing him without much finesse as he brought her up and up and up with his talented fingers. It was almost embarrassing, how quickly she came.

They curled together, holding each other. “Shall we go out and get breakfast?” Killian asked against her hair.

“In a minute.” She pulled him closer. “I want to bask for just a minute.”

~*~

They found a diner called George’s a couple of blocks away, crowded with a mixture of people in severe business suits, tourists, and guys in work boots with reflective yellow vests over their dusty coveralls. There were a few empty tables, and Emma and Killian were seated immediately and presented with laminated menus before the server rushed away. Emma glanced at hers, feeling strangely awkward all of a sudden.

“Tell me an awkward story,” Killian said, and she looked up quickly to see him staring back at her with one of his piercing glances. Was he reading her mind now?

“What?”

“Our contest isn’t over, Swan. Tell me an awkward story, bonus points if it makes me laugh.” 

Her lips turned up in a smile. “Can it be the one about walking in on my parents in bed together?”

“I already know that one.”

“How about when Granny made it clear she’d heard me having sex in one of her rooms?”

“Unless it’s happened to you more than once, no.” His eyes got slightly rounder. “ _Has_ it happened to you more than once?”

“Is that your way of asking if I’ve slept with anyone else in Storybrooke?” she asked with a smirk. “I haven’t.”

Their server approached the table with a coffee pot and filled their cups, then took their breakfast orders. After a day of snacking along the road the day before, Emma was suddenly famished, and she ordered accordingly.

Killian took a sip of his coffee and prodded her foot with his under the table. “Come on, Swan. Tell me a good tale.”

She glanced at the table nearest them, but the couple sitting there was arguing over a guidebook in what sounded like Korean. Still, she lowered her voice. “Okay. When I was sixteen, I lost my virginity in the backseat of a car.”

Killian looked very interested at that admission. “This wasn’t Baelfire, was it?”

She shook her head. “No, it was a guy from school. I didn’t really have feelings for him. I mean, I liked him, but mostly I wanted to get it over with, you know?”

“I do.”

“So, predictably, it was bad. Cramped, obviously, since we were in the back of his mom’s car. And neither of us really knew what we were doing, so it was kind of painful. And I didn’t, you know, come. But he was sweet; I don’t think he was in love with me or anything, but he wasn’t shitty to me. So it could have been worse, I guess.”

“That’s rather a low bar, but all right.”

“Afterwards, we were both feeling... I don’t know, confused, I guess. And it was dark, and he was late for his curfew. So there was this whole flurry of trying to get our clothes back on and not meeting each other’s eyes and stuff. He drove me home, and that was that. I’d had sex.”

The server placed their breakfasts in front of them at that moment, not batting an eye at Emma’s last statement. She supposed he’d heard worse.

“All right, that was awkward, but I didn’t laugh,” Killian said.

“I’m not done,” Emma said as she poured syrup onto her waffle. “A few days later, I got an envelope in the mail. Like a regular letter envelope, but it was sort of puffy, like there was something in it. I took it to my room and opened it up…” She paused, taking a bite of her breakfast.

“Swan, what was in the envelope?”

Emma chewed and swallowed methodically, drawing out the suspense before answering him. “My underwear. And a note from the guy’s mom.”

Killian laughed. 

“I felt like I was going to burst into flame from embarrassment. It’s funny now, but at the time, it was the absolute worst.”

“What did the note say?”

“It said something like, ‘I found these in my car. My son admitted they were yours, so I’m returning them.’ Like, nothing bad at all! No ‘how dare you sully my boy’ or ‘here’s your underwear, you slut’. And she could have told the people who ran the group home where I was living and gotten me in trouble, but she didn’t. Of course, she also could have just thrown the panties away, so I think she wanted to embarrass me, but I don’t think she wanted to shame me, if that makes sense.”

He nodded. “And the boy you’d been with never said anything?”

“No! He was probably too embarrassed. We didn’t talk much after that anyway. The school year ended, and I wasn’t back there the next year, so I never saw him again. I hope he’s having a good life.” She sipped her coffee. “You laughed, by the way.”

“That’s true, I did.” He took a bite of his bacon. “So, I suppose it’s my turn.”

“Yep. Awkward with a side of funny. Go.”

“Okay.” He sighed. “I’m taking a gamble here that this story won’t make you cross with me.”

“Uh oh,” she said with a grin.

“You remember Cora, of course.”

“How could I forget?”

“She was not an easy person to work for, as I’m sure you might imagine. But,” he leaned back in his chair, licking his bottom lip, “she was attracted to me.”

“Eww.” Emma rolled her eyes. “Wait, are you about to tell me you slept with her?”

“In the sense that I ever slept in the same bed with her? Absolutely not.” He scratched behind his ear. “In the sense that I might have once or twice let her tie me up and do things to me in order to stay on her good side? Possibly.”

She almost spit coffee across the table. “ _Possibly?_ ”

“Once or twice! Or three… five times at most.”

“Gross. And, as I probably don’t need to point out, not funny.”

“Give me time to set the scene, Swan. There was one such occasion long ago when she was particularly furious with me, even more angry than the time I failed to retrieve a certain compass from a certain giant’s lair for her. Let’s see, why was that again?” 

Emma was tempted to laugh at his exaggerated thinking face, but she held it in and scowled at him instead. “Could it be because you were a revenge-obsessed pirate who could barely keep track of who you were double-crossing at any given moment?” she whispered furiously.

“No, it was because a blonde who shall remain nameless chained me up and took the compass we were retrieving together!”

“Which you were going to give to Cora, betraying me exactly like I thought you were going to!”

“I wasn’t—”

“Just… get on with your awkward, gross sex story about you and _Cora_.”

Killian blanched. “In order to get back into Cora’s good graces, I did… let her have her way with me. Unfortunately, her way involved chaining me up magically and leaving me in the quarters of my ship with no way to free myself.”

Her lips twitched. “Were you naked?”

“Yes.”

“What did you do?”

He sighed again. “I had to shout for Mr. Smee to come free me.” Emma bit the inside of her cheek, holding her laughter in. “Which he was unable to do, because of Cora’s magic. He ended up holding my flask to my mouth like some kind of nursemaid while trying his best to avert his eyes from my manhood.”

She couldn’t stop herself anymore; peels of laughter rang out in the restaurant as Emma cackled at the mental image Killian had conjured. The Korean tourists stared at her as she gave herself over to it and threw her head back.

As she calmed down, Killian sat and watched her with a satisfied smirk on his face. “I believe I won this round, Swan.”

“Yeah, I guess you did.” Emma wiped tears of laughter from her eyes. “Also, you have _got_ to stop using the word ‘manhood’ that way. It’s ridiculous.”

~*~ 

The subway uptown was crowded. Standing in each other’s personal space on the packed train car, Emma braced herself by holding onto Killian’s arm and prosthetic hand. 

“My hook would be much more useful with these,” he said, looking up at the bar he was holding onto with his hand.

“Plus, it’s way sexier.”

“What?”

She flushed. “Hmm?”

He leaned over, his lips grazing her ear. “Did you just admit that you find my hook sexy, Swan?”

“No.” She met his eyes, which were alight with mirth. “Maybe. I mean, I hope you don’t think I’m fetishizing your disability, because that would be wrong, it’s… I don’t know. I like it.”

“Should I leave it on next time?” he asked with a waggle of his eyebrows.

She grinned back at him. “Maybe.”

They got off the subway at Times Square, and Killian squinted and held Emma’s hand tightly as they pushed through the throngs of tourists toward 41st Street. “This is horrible,” he said, looking at the digital billboards that surrounded them.

“You should see it at night.”

The walk to the library was short, and when Emma cut through Bryant Park, she could feel Killian relax to see a little bit of green in the midst of midtown Manhattan. The flagship branch of the New York Public Library loomed in front of them, an edifice of stone and glass.

“I always find buildings like this intimidating,” Emma whispered as the revolving door dumped them into the library’s imposing marble entranceway. “You know?”

“On the contrary, this is as much like the Enchanted Forest as almost anywhere I’ve been. Certain parts of it, anyway.”

“Like the castle I was supposed to have grown up in?”

“Aye.”

Emma asked at the front desk for directions to the archive room Belle had told them about, and the instructions brought them to a small, deserted part of the library on the third floor. A harried-looking young woman who was sorting through a pile of old black-and-white photographs looked up and glared at them. “Yes?”

“Good morning, madam,” Killian said in his most charming tone of voice, and Emma could actually see the librarian soften as she took him in. He pulled the book from the Storybrooke library out of his satchel and opened it to the salient page. “We have it on some authority that this crystal might be located here in your archive. I was wondering if we could get a look at it.”

Because Emma hadn’t given a whole lot of thought to the real purpose of coming to New York, being far too focused on her personal reasons for wanting a trip out of town, it was only just occurring to her that for their mission to be a success, she and Killian would have to steal the crystal. While she was sure they were both more than capable of doing so, it had been pretty stupid of them not to have come up with a plan for the heist ahead of time.

“It’s not here,” the librarian said in bored monotone, eyes fixed on her computer screen.

Emma looked up with a start. “Wait, what?” 

She shrugged. “I don’t have a record of that crystal being in our collection.”

“Well, could it have been here at some point?” Killian asked.

The librarian shrugged again. “You’d have to ask Lynne. She knows this archive way better than me.”

He smiled, although Emma could see his frustration in the set of his jaw. “And where might we find Lynne?”

“She’s off today, but she’ll be in tomorrow.” She was going back to her work with the photos, clearly having already mentally dismissed them.

“What do we do now, Swan?”

“I guess we come back tomorrow.”

~*~

They walked through Battery Park arm-in-arm. 

“Thank you for bringing me back down to the water. I don’t think I could have spent much more time near that library; too many people stopping on the sidewalk all of sudden for no reason.”

The promenade along the harbor was relatively deserted in the middle of a chilly weekday afternoon, with only the most hardcore joggers and a few stroller-pushing parents out and about.

“Tourists are the worst,” she agreed.

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. “You seemed unphased by it all.”

“Yeah, well, I spent a lot of time in and around Boston, and that’s a pretty big city. And then I lived here for a year, as you know, so…” She shrugged. “I’m used to cities.”

“I suppose I don’t mind visiting, but I’ll confess I find a lot of things about this place to be overwhelming. Storybrooke is small; I can almost get my head around it most of the time.”

“But you’ve done such a good job adapting to the modern world,” Emma protested.

Killian laughed uneasily. “Good job? I have no employment, I can barely manage to operate a phone, the foods are strange and unappetizing, the clothes—”

“Shut up, you look great in the clothes.”

“Well, I look great in most anything,” he said, and she punched him in the arm. “The point is, Storybrooke is much more manageable for me than all of this,” he said, gesturing to the city around them. “I’m glad it’s where I’ll likely be spending what remains of my life.”

Emma froze. She’d never heard him say so matter-of-factly that he expected to stay in Storybrooke forever. A shiver ran down her spine.

“What is it, love?”

With effort, Emma resumed walking, trying to affect a casual air. “If you had the chance to live in the Enchanted Forest again, would you?”

“I _did_ have that chance, Swan, and I did everything in my power to come back here. To you.”

“Yeah, but that was so I could save everyone from yet another terrible curse.”

“That was one reason.” He stopped walking and faced her. “My life there was empty because it didn’t have you in it. My home is where you are.”

Emma looked out over the water, avoiding the expression on his face. “I know you are concerned about moving too fast,” Killian continued, “and I will follow your lead in this relationship. But know that I would live in the midst of Times Square itself if that’s where you wanted to be.”

Her breaths started to come quickly and Emma squeezed her eyes shut, trying not to panic in the face of this declaration. It was too much. She put on a bright, fake smile. “We should go out for a nice dinner tonight, what do you say?”

~*~

Killian wondered if there was a way to plug his ears to drown out the noise that was assaulting them. 

They had gone back to the hotel after their walk, and Emma had taken a long shower and then changed into a dress that had left him absolutely speechless, the way it clung to the shape of her, hugging every curve. He had wanted to cancel dinner and take her to bed immediately, but Emma was being distant, too bright and too brittle, and he had known it was his fault. He’d pushed too hard, said too much, and now she was pulling away. With a sigh, he’d followed her out the door of their room and into the night.

The restaurant she had picked had been a little too loud for intimate conversation, which may have been why Emma had chosen it. He had watched as she drank a martini and then more than her share of the bottle of wine he’d ordered, noticed how she kept the topics of conversation light and inconsequential. It was still nice being with her; she was clever and funny as always, but it felt a little bit empty. The woman he’d spent the past several days with was putting her walls back up brick by brick as he watched.

After dinner, she had dragged him to a club in what she called the “meatpacking district,” although he had neither seen nor smelled any signs of meat. What he’d seen instead was a line of people, the women in small dresses and high heels like Emma, waiting in front of a velvet rope for a large, well-muscled man in a tight t-shirt to give them leave to enter. 

“What decides whom he lets in?” Killian had asked.

She’d shrugged. “Attractiveness, mostly. We’ll get in. Look at us.”

They had, and now he sat on an uncomfortable cube-shaped seat next to an uncomfortable cube-shaped table, too low to actually be useful, while Emma ordered them drinks at the bar. Meanwhile the music (if it could be called that), which seemed to be controlled by a woman with blue-tipped hair behind a table covered with several spinning discs, was starting to give him a headache right between his eyes.

Emma appeared before him, two glasses of rum in her hands, one of which she handed him before taking an inadvisably large swig from her own glass. 

“Drink up, babe; I wanna dance.”

Killian looked at the people writhing on the dance floor doubtfully. “Is _that_ what those people are doing?”

“Hey. I danced the waltz with you at that ball. You’re gonna dance with me here.”

Raising his glass to her, Killian tipped the whole thing into his open throat before setting the empty glass down on the cube-table. “Lead on, my dear.”

She took his hand and pulled him onto the small dance floor. Everyone was pressed close together; a sea of sweaty, pulsing bodies, and although he didn’t understand the music, he did understand the rhythm of it on a basic level. It was like sex, the way the couples used the deep, throbbing beat to move against each other. He was reminded of a brothel he’d been to in an exotic port city, a place where a fistful of coins could buy entrance to a room where bodies writhed together in twos and threes and fours; a mass of flesh and tangled, gasping pleasure. Emma pulled him close, her arms thrown over his shoulders and her thighs rubbing against his with every swivel of her hips, and he closed his eyes and lost himself in the sensation of her. He couldn’t just hear the beat, he could feel it pounding in his chest cavity, echoing in his groin as Emma pressed enticingly against him. He shifted one of his thighs between hers, encouraging her to grind down, watching as her eyelashes fluttered with want. She turned at one point, her ass pressing back against him, and he clenched his fingers into the slippery fabric of her dress where it was gathered at her hip. He longed for his other hand once again, wanting the added leverage to pull her closer. If he could pull her close enough, perhaps he wouldn’t lose her. Perhaps she wouldn’t slip through his fingers. 

There was more rum, and more dancing, more flashes of Emma under the strobing lights, the red of her dress and her neck damp with sweat. When they finally stumbled out into the cold night, Emma hailed a taxi to take them back to the hotel. It wasn’t until they were in the car with her head lolling on his shoulder that he realized how drunk she was. 

He kept a hand on the small of her back as they navigated to the hotel elevator and then to their room, and Killian was thinking about the best way to get her to drink some water and into bed to sleep when she turned and kissed him, her tongue enthusiastically plundering his mouth. “God, I want you to fuck me right now,” she said when she came up for air.

“I think you’ve had a little too much to drink for that, love,” he said, his eyes closing at the feel of her pressed against him. Her dancing had him half-hard all evening, and his cock responded now against his will. 

Emma just laughed. “We’re in a relationship, dummy. You have… what do they call it? Implied consent,” she over-enunciated. “I don’t have to be sober every damn time, although I appreciate the thought.” Grabbing his hand, she pulled it down and up under her dress, pressing his fingers between her legs. He could feel how wet she was, how it was soaking through the sheer fabric of her underwear, and he groaned. “Don’t you want me?” she asked.

He knew he shouldn’t; he knew they should talk about the way she was using all of this, the dinner and dancing and drinking and fucking, to avoid facing their feelings for each other. “I always want you.” He shifted her panties to the side and rubbed against her slick folds, watching as her eyelashes fluttered. 

She kissed him again, sloppy and desperate. “Fuck, then just…” She fumbled for his belt, showing surprising dexterity as she unbuckled it and unzipped his pants and freed his erection. He thrust into her fist, feeling a little bit desperate himself. “Just now, please, fuck me,” she gasped. “Bend me over and fill me up.” Her hips moved as she sought friction from his fingers, and he wondered if she was even aware that she was talking. Any inhibitions she might have had left her several drinks ago.

Guiding her over to the chaise lounge near the window, he positioned Emma to bend over the back of it. He let his hands, one real and one fake, come to rest on her thighs. The sight of his false hand brought a frown to his face.

“Don’t move,” he said, letting go of Emma to reach into his duffel bag and pull out his hook. With an efficient click he had the hand removed and his hook back where it belonged. “That’s better.”

Emma had turned around to watch him, and she hummed with approval. 

“You like that?” He repositioned himself behind her, lifting her dress to gather it around her waist. He used his hook to help pull her underwear down, and saw her shudder as the cool metal touched her skin. “How much do you like it?” Turning the curve of it toward her, he let the hook come to rest between her legs, letting it brush against her folds. “Do you like _that_?”

Emma moaned, swiveling her hips, unashamedly rubbing against it. “Yes.”

He held still, entranced by the sight of Emma pleasuring herself on his hook. It was impossibly erotic. He wanted to watch her come this way, but more than that he wanted to bury himself inside her. She whimpered when he removed the hook, but he quickly had lined himself up and thrust inside her. Every pump of his hips forced her against the back of the chaise that she gripped. He was vaguely aware of her snaking her hand down to touch herself, and it only made him fuck her harder. It was loud and hard and grasping, the slick sound of their fucking and the slap of his hips into hers and their voices escalating in pitch as they got closer and closer to release. The alcohol was numbing them both, stretching it out, but eventually they fell together, ending with him pressed over her, panting harshly against her back as he tried to catch his breath. 

Emma shifted and he lifted off of her, slipping from her body. She stumbled out of her shoes on shaky legs, and reached back behind her to the zipper of her dress briefly before dropping her hands. “Can you unzip me?” she asked in a raspy voice.

Once her dress was off, she collapsed on the bed. “Let me get you a washcloth and some water,” he said softly.

“I need Advil too,” she said with a vague gesture. “In my makeup bag.”

After she’d swallowed the contents of a glass of water with the pills and he’d tenderly cleaned her up, he pulled the covers over her, watching as she sank into a drunken sleep. With a heavy sigh, he shucked his clothes and climbed into the other side of the large bed, an ocean of space between them.


	6. Chapter 6

Emma woke up with a pounding headache. The first thing she saw when she opened her eyes was the empty glass on her bedside table, and a fractured memory popped into her head of Killian bringing her water and Advil before she passed out. Which reminded her of the way he’d gently cleaned her up after… she winced. After the sex she’d initiated. After drinking way too much and dragging him out dancing. 

She rolled over to see the vast expanse of an empty bed.

Struggling to her feet, she stumbled to the bathroom. It too was empty. Killian was gone. 

Emma’s stomach roiled and she dropped to the floor, retching into the toilet. The thin hotel bath mat cushioned her knees a little, but she shivered and couldn’t help thinking what a sight she must be, on the floor wearing a bra and nothing else with her head pressed against the toilet seat. The heaving of her stomach made her head hurt worse, which made her stomach rebel even more. 

After a few minutes she was able to drag herself up from the floor. She turned on the shower as hot as could stand it. With a heavy sigh she unhooked her bra and stepped under the spray, letting the water run down her hair.

Killian was no idiot; he could read her like an open book, he’d said so many times. He had probably seen right through her last night. He knew she’d been avoiding talking about anything meaningful since their conversation in Battery Park. For the first time, she began to genuinely worry that she'd pushed him too far. He was a patient man, but everyone had their limits. How long before he got fed up with her walls and gave up on her?

Emma did her best to wash herself, her hands feeling numb and heavy, her head still throbbing. If only the memories of past hangovers weren't always conveniently absent during a drinking binge.

Turning off the water, she dried off and wrapped the towel around her hair before exiting the bathroom.

Killian sat in the room’s lone desk chair, waiting for her. 

“How are you feeling this morning?”

She exhaled with relief, her shoulders relaxing. “Shitty,” she said as she opened a drawer and pulled out some clothes. 

“I thought you might. I'm sorry, Swan, I should have said something last night before you got so inebriated.”

Emma rolled her eyes as she pulled her underwear on. “You're not my minder, Killian.”

“I know that.” He dropped his eyes. “In any case, I got you some breakfast.”

“Ugh, I don't think I can eat.”

“Try. You'll feel better if you get something into your stomach.” Once she’d finished dressing, he guided her to sit down and put a wrapped breakfast sandwich in her lap. “I also got you a tea; I thought coffee might be a bit too much.”

“Thanks. That's very sweet.” She unwrapped the sandwich and forced herself to take a bite.

He watched her eat for awhile in silence. “I'm sorry about last night,” Killian finally said, his expression pained. “I shouldn't have… I fear I took advantage of you.”

“Are you talking about the sex?” Dismissing him with a wave her hand, she added, “From what I remember, it was very hot and I was very into it. And we’re going to revisit that thing you did with your hook when I’m sober.” She took a sip of tea and felt her headache recede a fraction. “It's me that needs to apologize.”

“Why?” 

“Because I… “ She stopped, and Killian gave her a tiny nod of encouragement. “Because I drank so much,” she responded, chickening out on the real reason for the apology. _Because I’m a closed off, broken excuse for a human being who can’t just admit how important you are to me_ , she thought.

He gave her a tight smile and a pat on the knee. “I can return to the library on my own if you aren’t feeling up to it.”

“No, I’ll be fine, just give me a few more minutes.”

~*~

The third floor archive room was again empty save for a single librarian. This time it was a woman with short, red hair, an impressive array of piercings, and a tattoo on her chest only mostly concealed by her sweater. She looked even less like a librarian than the first one had, and Emma prepared herself for disappointment.

“Hi, we’re looking for Lynne?” she asked.

“That’s me, what can I do for you?”

Killian again brandished his book. “We spoke to the librarian who was here yesterday about this crystal. She had no record of it in that _thing_ ,” he said, gesturing to the computer, “but told us that you might have more information.”

Lynne stared at the engraving in the book. “Yeah, Karen’s only been here for about six months, so she doesn’t know how to access our old database,” she said. “Not that I need it, because I actually remember this item, but I’ll show you.” After several seconds of rapid typing, she turned the monitor enough so that they could see the screen. “See that?” she said, pointing to a text entry. “Stolen over a year ago. We reported it to the police and everything, but it wasn’t exactly their top priority to track down a rock with mythical origins, no matter how old and priceless it is.”

“You said you remember it,” Emma probed. “You were here when it was stolen?”

“I was working the day this guy with a cane came in and asked to see it. I knew there was something about him that wasn’t quite right, but I did my job, I sat him down right over there with the artifact and some documentation we had to accompany it. After about ten minutes, he thanked me and left, and I put everything away promptly, exactly like we’re supposed to. I know I put that crystal back and locked the cabinet. But a few days later, something about the whole thing was bugging me, so I went to check that I hadn’t misfiled it. The crystal was gone.”

“Maybe because you misfiled it?” Emma said.

“I tore the whole place apart. It was just gone. Somehow, that guy stole it.”

“The man with the cane?” Killian said, his jaw clenched and spasming. His mind had clearly gone exactly where Emma’s had.

“There was no record of anyone else in the last thirty years coming to look at that crystal. Then three days after someone does, it disappears? I don’t believe in coincidences.”

“No, nor I,” Killian said darkly.

“I gave his description to the police, but nothing ever came of it. Sorry.”

Killian turned on his heel and stalked out of the room. “Thanks for your help,” Emma said to librarian, giving her a small smile before she dashed after him. 

“Killian, wait!” she called, which made him spin around to face her. His fist was clenched at his side.

“Bloody Crocodile,” he muttered.

“Yeah, it does sound a lot like Gold, and the date matches when I brought him to New York to track down Neal. He must’ve stolen it while I was occupied with the whole Henry meeting his father situation.” She put a hand on Killian’s shoulder in an attempt to calm him. “But maybe this is a good thing. Maybe it’s in his shop. You have to admit, it would be pretty funny if we came all this way and the damn thing was in Storybrooke the whole time.” With a smile, she added, “We might even get accused of making up an excuse to go on a romantic trip together.”

He returned her smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “We should call Belle and let her know. She can look for it.”

“Let’s go outside and call her from the park,” Emma suggested, taking his arm and steering him to the stairwell.

Belle answered her phone after the first ring. “Emma! How’s New York?”

“Hi, Belle. New York’s fine.”

“Did you find the crystal?”

“Not exactly. It was here, but it looks like…” She paused, grimacing. The last thing she wanted to do was give Belle more reason to be upset, but there was no way around it. “It looks like Gold may have stolen it last year when I brought him to New York to track down Neal. We were hoping maybe he stashed it in his shop. Can you look?”

Her voice was softer, more subdued when she answered. “Yeah, I’ll go over there right away.”

“Thanks. Call us when you find something. I guess either way, we’ll be heading back tomorrow,” she said, looking at Killian. “There’s not much more we can do here.”

“I’m sorry you made the trip for nothing. Did you at least get a chance to have some fun together?” Belle asked.

“Yeah, we’ve had some time for fun.”

The two of them said their goodbyes and Emma ended the call. “She’ll call if she finds something.”

“She won’t,” Killian said. “It’s a crystal to undo magical traps. If anything, he would have destroyed it.”

“Maybe not. Maybe he would have saved it in case he got caught in a magical trap himself.”

“If that were the case, he’d carry it with him. And we have no idea where he is; he could be here in New York City right now and we’d never know it.”

Emma shuddered at that idea, glancing around at the buildings that in that moment seemed to close in around them.

“And even if we found him and he had the crystal, why would he help us? He despises fairies almost as much as he despises me.” They were standing near a park bench, and Killian kicked it violently. Being bolted to the ground, the park bench was unfazed by his attack.

“Did that help?”

“Yes.”

“Killian—”

“Everything I do, everywhere I go, Rumplestiltskin is there to plague me. It’s not enough that he destroyed Milah and Bae and countless others, or that he took my hand. Even banished from our lives, he still finds a way to thwart me at every turn.” There was murder in his eyes, and Emma unconsciously took a step backward.

“If the crystal isn’t an option, then we’ll find another way.”

He didn’t seem to even hear her, pacing in front of her like a chained attack dog. “I don’t know what I was playing at, thinking I could be the hero and save the day. Set my vengeance aside, and right past wrongs; be a good man, a pillar of the community,” he spat. “As if I’m someone who deserves happiness and a warm fire and a… a big, soft bed like the one in that bloody hotel room.”

“You’re angry about the _bed_?” 

“I'm angry that I let myself believe I deserve that kind of comfort after the kind of man I’ve been.”

“But you’ve changed.”

He laughed a sharp, bitter laugh. “You probably imagine that I was a fine, upstanding citizen until grief turned me into a vengeful pirate.” Emma glanced at the people passing near them in the park, but no one seemed to be paying them any attention. Most of them had earbuds plugged into their ears, completely oblivious to the fact that Captain Hook was having a meltdown right here in the middle of Manhattan. “What you don’t understand is that I was always weak,” he continued, his eyes flashing with pain and fury. “I was a drunk and a gambler long before I was anything that anyone could admire. The only thing that kept me on the straight and narrow was fear of disappointing Liam, and as soon as he died…”

She reached out and touched the arm of his jacket, trying to calm him. “I know, I get that, but what I see is the man you are _now_ —”

“Exactly, which is why you’re pulling away from me.”

She dropped her hand. “I’m not _pulling away_ from you—”

“Aren’t you, Emma?” He smiled a dark little smile. “And honestly I think if I were truly a good man, I would let you go. You’d be better off without me.”

“You’ve certainly made up your mind about a lot of things without considering what I want.” She was suddenly livid. 

Killian looked away, the muscle in his jaw working furiously. 

“Everyone in my life has left me. Everyone. And you stand there and talk about my fears like they’re about _you_?” Her arms were crossed tightly across her chest, and she stared hard at a food truck in her field of vision, watching the lighted sign flash without really registering what she was looking at. She was suddenly exhausted. “My headache is coming back. I’m going back to the hotel and lie down.”

“Perhaps I will go for a walk. Clear my head.” She glanced at him briefly, at the firm set of his shoulders. The relief that he wasn’t offering to go back to the hotel with her made her stomach twist with guilt.

“Do you have the second room key?”

“Aye.”

“And you have your card for the subway?”

“I do.”

“Don’t forget, the little arrow needs to be pointing toward the swipey thing,” she said, gesturing as if she was swiping a card through the turnstile reader.

“You don’t need to mother me, Swan, I can get along fine without you.”

Anger flashed in her veins again. “Fine. I’ll see you later.” Before she could say something she would regret, she turned on her heel and stalked across the park, back towards the crush of Times Square.

After a train ride that went by in a blur of unintelligible announcements and disinterested passengers jostling with her for space, Emma emerged from the subway under the shadow of construction scaffolding. The sunshine that lit up Rector Street didn’t reach her under the canopy of steel as she trudged to the hotel. It was early afternoon, and people were streaming in and out of a falafel shop as she passed. The oily smell made her stomach roll over. 

She glanced at faces in the sea of humanity as she passed, the stockbrokers from nearby Wall Street who were thinking about their next conference call and the teen girls who were looking around excitedly as their harried parents wearing fanny packs and too-white sneakers trailed a few steps behind. None of them had any idea what existed under the surface of this world, the magic and mystery that Emma had been plunged into without warning on her twenty-eighth birthday. Magic that had led her to Killian. She didn't know if she believed in destiny, but sometimes, looking at him, he felt a little bit like destiny. And he felt a lot like home. 

The hotel room was freshly cleaned and deathly silent when she let herself in. Pulling off her boots, she lay down on top of the blankets, shivering with tiredness and a chill that she couldn’t explain. Lacking the energy to get undressed or get under the covers, she reached over and pulled the comforter around herself, curling up in the fetal position and squeezing her eyes shut. Mercifully, she fell asleep in a matter of minutes.

~*~

The room was dim when Killian entered, the early sunset of winter leaving behind a damp chill that had settled into his bones as he’d walked. Killian rubbed his hands together and blew on them, his gaze settling on the white lump with blonde hair that was curled up on the bed. His heart squeezed with a mixture of affection and fear.

Seemingly sensing his presence, Emma sat up, partially untangling herself from the duvet and clicking on the bedside lamp. “You’re back,” she said softly.

“Is that all right?” After his behavior, he figured he deserved to be thrown out of the room.

Emma patted the bed next to her, an invitation for him to join her. With careful steps, he walked over and sat on the edge of the bed, his feet firmly planted on the floor.

“I’m sorry, Emma.” He closed his eyes, afraid to meet hers.

“I’m sorry too.”

“You have nothing to apologize for, love, it was—”

“You were right, I’ve been… pushing you away a little bit. Or at least I’ve been deflecting, because…” She took a breath and let it out. He watched her face as she struggled to put her thoughts into words. Reaching over, Killian took her warm hand in his own, holding it loosely. “It’s a lot, the way I feel about you, and it scares me. I swore I’d never put myself in the position to get my heart broken again, and… I have.”

“You must know I’d rather die than ever break your heart.”

Emma raised an eyebrow at him. “Okay, well don’t _die_ , that would be stupid.”

“I just mean—”

“I know.” She squeezed his hand. “God, you’re freezing.” Her other hand reached over and touched his wind-chapped cheek. “How long were you outside?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know.” He’d walked, block after block, trying to see his way clear to being able to leave Emma for her own good. She was goodness and light magic, she was the Savior, and he was, as Peter Pan had once said, a one-handed pirate with a drinking problem. But after turning the agonizing idea over in his mind, he knew there wasn’t a chance in hell that he would ever voluntarily be parted from Emma Swan. He loved her too much. She’d burrowed deep into his heart and taken up residence there, and if he were a praying man, he would pray for her to stay there forever.

“Let’s warm you up,” Emma said, unbuttoning her jeans and pulling them off.

Dragged from his thoughts, Killian frowned. “What are you doing?”

“No innuendo? Who are you and what have you done with Killian Jones?” she said with a small smile. “I wasn’t proposing sex, by the way. I just figured we could snuggle up under the covers and get you warm. Okay?” He watched, mesmerized, as she reached under her shirt and unhooked her bra, and then through some kind of feminine witchcraft pulled it off and tossed it aside while her shirt stayed on. “Come on, take your pants off.” Emma added as she got under the covers properly and attempted to straighten out the mess she’d made of the duvet.

In a daze, Killian followed her direction, stripping down to his shirt and underwear before joining her in bed. Emma curled into him immediately, wrapping her arms around him and tangling their legs together. She felt so good and so warm and he sighed, feeling the tension he’d been carrying for hours finally draining away. They held each other in silence for several long minutes.

“I’m sorry that I let my anger at Rumplestiltskin get the better of me,” he finally murmured. “It brought all of my fears and doubts about myself to the fore, but I should never have burdened you with any of that.”

“Killian, that’s part of being in a relationship. Telling me when you have fears and doubts. I’m sorry if I made you feel like you have to hide the way you feel.” She shifted, kissing his cheek, and the sweetness of it made him close his eyes against tears that sprang up.

“Well,” he said, clearing his throat, “we’ve probably apologized enough for one day.” 

Emma laughed, hugging him tighter before pulling away and looking him in the eye. “Storytime. Dumbest thing you’ve ever said to someone you had feelings for.”

He met her smile with one of his own. “That’s easy, but it’s a story you already know. It was the time I locked a certain Savior in a prison cell and told her I was done with her.”

“That doesn’t count, you didn’t have feelings for me then,” she countered.

“That’s where you’re wrong, Swan. I certainly did. I was drawn to you from the first moment I saw you.” He cupped her cheek in his hand, his thumb gently stroking her face. “What would be your answer to the question?”

She blushed, biting her lip. “One time thing. Definitely the dumbest thing I’ve ever said was when I told you kissing was a one time thing.”

The memory of that kiss flashed in his mind as he stared at Emma’s lips, which drew him in like a magnet. Their kiss was slow and gentle, her bottom lip between his, and he nipped at her again and again, pulling back each time only to return for more. He felt the kindling of desire but he didn’t allow it to push him into accelerating things. Right now he just wanted to focus on kissing her, on the sweetness of her mouth and the softness of her lips. When she tilted her head and opened her mouth wider, they still kept things languid and easy, neither of them in any rush to do more, despite the way their bodies were pressed together.

As the kiss naturally slowed to a stop, he heard the distinct sound of Emma’s stomach growling and couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Sorry, I didn’t eat much today.”

“Well, we should probably go do something about that. What do you fancy?”

“I fancy not having to put my bra back on. Let’s order room service.” She sprang out of the bed and retrieved a folder from the desk before reclaiming her spot under the covers. 

After she’d used the room telephone to tell someone what food to bring them, Emma reached for the television remote to turn the device on. He’d hardly been aware there was a television in the room, so focused had he been on the bed-related activities, but now the black rectangle sprang to life.

“I could use a little mindless TV, is that okay?” She was pressing a button, making the picture change every couple of seconds. 

“It’s fine.” He didn’t care for TV, didn’t have the cultural language to understand most of it, but he was so happy with how open she was being, he wouldn’t have minded if a traveling circus came into the room to perform. Even better when she curled up against him, her head on his chest, to watch whatever program she’d settled on. It seemed to be a drama about people searching for the killer of a woman who had been ritually raped and dumped out of an apartment window to sprawl, lifeless, on a car below. The police detectives bantered in dry witticisms over the dead body, and Killian silently questioned Emma’s characterization of this program as “mindless.”

The evening passed easily as they ate their delivered dinner cross-legged on the bed, sharing french fries and good-natured arguments over the program he learned was called Law and Order. Once Emma had put the room service tray outside the door and they had curled up under the covers again, Killian felt himself starting to get sleepy, the emotionally exhausting day catching up with him. He sank down further into the soft mattress, his hand toying idly with the ends of Emma’s hair as they lay entwined. When the second episode of the murder show ended, Emma yawned and turned the television off with the remote device. 

“Sleepy?” he asked her.

“Yeah,” she said, but her fingernail scratching through his chest hair above where his shirt was buttoned hinted that sleep might not have been foremost on her mind. “We have to go home tomorrow.”

“Aye.”

“So it’s our last night to take advantage of being completely alone.”

He still wanted her, had wanted her all evening in a patient, unhurried way. “I would like nothing better, but no one’s keeping score, and you need your rest.”

“I’m not _that_ tired.” She unbuttoned two buttons of his shirt, parting the fabric to kiss his chest. Then she looked up, hesitant. “Is this okay?”

“Love, if I ever turn down the pleasures of your body, you can assume someone has stolen my heart again.”

Emma grinned. “So really, me hitting on you could be considered necessary to your safety, is what you’re saying.”

“It sounds only prudent.” Cupping her face with his hand, he pulled her close to kiss her. Her mouth was warm, her tongue tangling with his as the kiss overtook them. They could barely stop kissing long enough to shed the few clothes they were wearing, but eventually they managed it. He let his hand travel over her body as Emma resettled against him, cupping the curve of her breast and pinching her nipple just hard enough to make her gasp with pleasure before raking his fingers down over her hip, gripping her ass and pulling her closer still. He took a moment to appreciate how wonderful it felt, her naked body against his, everything warm and soft and filled with anticipation. Gods, he would do anything to just live in this moment forever, loving this woman with his body and soul.

He felt her hand trailing down his stomach, a light, teasing touch until she gripped his cock in her fist, stroking up and down slowly and making him moan against her mouth. He moved to reciprocate her attentions, slipping his hand between her legs to find her already so swollen and wet, and he couldn’t help the bloom of pride that this miraculous woman had so much desire for him. 

He was so wrapped up in the way she felt, in the sound of her voice when he touched her just so, that he was caught by surprise when she pushed him over onto his back and straddled him. She wasted no time taking his erection in hand and guiding him inside, rocking her hips to work herself down onto him until he was buried deep. She was a goddess, an angel, her blonde hair cascading down. The movement of her breasts mesmerized him as she undulated her hips, taking what she needed. His limbs felt heavy and boneless as he watched her, and he could do little more than stroke the top of her thigh with his hand, pleasure sparking up his spine from where they were joined. Then Emma took hold of his both of his wrists, pressing them down onto the mattress on either side of his head and leaning forward, changing the angle and grinding harder with her hips. Her eyes were wide open, looking into his. Killian looked back, trying to communicate everything he was feeling for her without giving it voice. She seemed to see it, seemed to _accept_ it, her eyes finally slipping closed only when the ecstasy overcame her. With a strangled moan she came, allowing him to finally let go and follow her, pulsing inside her, his vision going white as the sensations overwhelmed him. 

The hotel bed was large, but that night they fell asleep cuddled close together in the center of it, Emma’s head on his chest and their legs entwined. Killian’s sleep was sound, and when he dreamed it was of the rocking of his ship on the sea, his love cradled in his arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come say hi at unfolded73 on tumblr!


	7. Chapter 7

Killian opened his eyes to the now-familiar surroundings of his room at Granny’s, faintly lit in the pre-dawn glow. He groaned, stretching his limbs in an attempt to banish the ache caused by too many hours sitting in Emma’s automobile the previous day. They’d both been exhausted when Emma pulled into town, and had limited themselves to a brief goodnight before he climbed out of the car and Emma drove off to pick Henry up from Regina’s house.

The whole trip to New York felt a little bit like a dream now. As he got dressed, Killian caught himself staring at a stray earring of Emma’s he had found on the floor the previous week and had neglected to return to her. He picked it up, squeezing it tightly between his fingers to reassure himself that she was real. That he hadn’t somehow dreamed up their entire relationship.

Belle was already working behind the circulation desk when he arrived at the library after breakfast. “Killian! Glad to see you made it home in one piece,” she said as she loaded returned books onto a cart. “Before you ask, I’ve been looking, but I haven’t found any sign of that crystal at the pawn shop.”

“Wasn’t really expecting you to, love.” He took a deep breath, trying to feign optimism about the task that lay ahead of them. “We’ll find some other way.”

Belle’s lips flattened out in an attempt at a smile. “I hope so. Was it a good trip otherwise?”

“For the most part,” he said.

“‘For the most part?’” Her head tilted to the side as she regarded him. “I was hoping for your sake it would be a bit romantic, at least.”

Killian wasn’t sure what to say to Belle. There was a lot of unfortunate history between them, and much he had to be ashamed of. If their alliance was growing into a friendship, what was appropriate to share with a platonic female friend who was grieving a heartbreaking betrayal so recently? 

“It was.” He reached for something innocuous to tell her. “She took me dancing at some sort of club; quite different from the balls in the Enchanted Forest.”

Belle laughed. “I bet it was.” She started to turn back to her books, but seemed to think better of it. “Are you okay? You seem a little bit down.”

“I’m not, I’m… I don’t know.” Belle just watched him, waiting. “We quarreled while we were there, and although in the end she forgave me quite easily, it left me feeling disconcerted.”

“It’s normal for couples to argue, Killian.”

“I know. It’s not the fact that we argued, it’s what it made me realize about myself.”

Belle came out from behind the circulation desk to stand nearer to him. “And what’s that?”

“I spent centuries only motivated by a quest for vengeance. And then I met Emma, and she… it was like she filled up all the broken places inside me. Revenge no longer drove me, or so I thought.”

“But?”

“I shouldn’t be talking to you about this, love. The last thing you need is to be burdened with my dark musings.” He scrubbed his hand over his face.

Belle was unimpressed with his angst. “Just tell me.”

“There was a moment in New York, after we realized that Gold had stolen the crystal, that I swear if he had been standing in front of me, I wouldn’t have hesitated to kill him right then and there.” He sighed. “It made me wonder if I’m no better than I was. If perhaps there’s some dark part of me, some weak part that I’ve tried to bury, for whom Emma is just a distraction.”

If he expected Belle to flinch or shy away, she didn’t. “We all have darkness, Killian. It’s just a matter of whether you allow it to rule you.”

“Some of us have more darkness than others.”

“Perhaps,” she conceded. “But do you know what I think? I see the capacity for a lot of good in you. I see a lot of kindness. You just have to put your faith in the man you know you want to be, not in the man you fear you are.”

~*~

Emma sat across from Henry in the diner booth at Granny’s and watched as he dug into his huge piece of chocolate cake.

“How’s the cake, kiddo?”

“Fine.” He raised an eyebrow at her. “You didn’t have to buy me cake just because you were out of town for a few days, you know.”

“I didn’t buy it because of that… mostly.” She shrugged. “I felt a little guilty for leaving you behind, that’s all.”

“I told you, I get it. I mean, I don’t _get it_ in the sense that I don’t really understand romantic stuff. But I get it.” He took another overly large bite, chewed, and swallowed. “So you think the crystal you guys were looking for is gone forever?”

“Probably. Belle can’t find it, so either Gold destroyed it or he took it with him. But I’m sure Belle and Killian will find another way to get the fairies out of that hat,” she assured him.

“Yeah.” 

In fact, Killian and Belle had redoubled their research efforts, and she’d seen little of him since they returned to Storybrooke. Emma’s mind drifted back to the last morning in New York, the way Killian had woken her gently by tracing a finger over the top of her hand where it rested between them on the bed. Even though he woke up at the crack of dawn, it had been nice, waking up together. Now they were back to stolen moments wedged in between all of their obligations.

“Do you think you and Hook are gonna move in together?” Henry mumbled, his mouth full of chocolate.

Emma almost spit her cocoa out, and she had to overcome a coughing fit before she could respond. “What? No. _What?_ ”

“Mom, it’s not that crazy. He’s staying at Granny’s, you’re crammed in with grandma and granddad and the baby.”

“Yeah, but that’s not a reason to move in together.”

Henry rolled his eyes. “Obviously, but also you’re dating.”

Emma allowed herself to picture it. Him being the last person she saw before she closed her eyes every night and the first person she saw when she woke up. His toothbrush next to hers in the bathroom, his rather terrifying straight razor beside the sink. Perhaps occasionally beckoning him into the shower like she had on that final morning in the hotel, their hands on each other slippery with soap, then her back pressed against the cold tile, Killian dropping to his knees and encouraging her to prop one leg up on his shoulder...

Shaking herself, Emma picked up her ice water and took a sip. “It’s way too soon to move in together.” 

With a shrug, Henry dug into his cake again. “Okay.”

“But just hypothetically…” Emma said. “If, _far_ in the future, we did move in together… you’d be okay with that? You wouldn’t mind?”

“If I mope about it, will you buy me more cake?”

“Henry, be serious.”

Henry looked up and seemed to consider it. “I don’t know. I like Hook, but it would be weird.”

“Too weird?”

He shrugged again. “Ask me again when the idea doesn’t make you spit your cocoa on me, I guess.”

“I didn’t—” Emma stopped her protestation and nodded. “Okay. It’s a deal.”

~*~

Pulling out his mobile telephone, Killian saw that an unfamiliar number was ringing him. Of course, other than Emma and now Belle, all numbers were unfamiliar. He pressed the Talk button and held it to his ear.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Hook, it’s Mary Margaret,” Snow said. “I was wondering if you wanted to come over to the loft and have lunch with me today.”

He gaped a bit like a fish out of water. “To what do I owe the honor, milady?”

“Settle down, I’m not inviting you to a royal ball, it’s just lunch.”

“In that event, I will forego any formal attire and would be happy to accept.”

A couple of hours later he was knocking nervously on the door of the Charmings’ apartment, wondering how bad, on a scale from understated disapproval to banishment, Snow White’s ulterior motive was for summoning him to eat a meal with her.

“Come in,” he heard Snow call, so he opened the door and walked into the sunny space.

She was stirring something in a large stew pot on stove. “Make yourself at home; this should be ready soon. How are you, Hook?”

Killian busied himself with hanging his jacket up. “I’m well. And yourself?”

She sighed. "Neal is teething and waking us up at all hours, but I’m fine otherwise. He’s napping now,” she explained.

Killian walked over the breakfast bar and sat on one of the stools. “At least the lad is healthy, yes?”

“Oh, yeah. We just had a checkup with the doctor last week and he’s doing great.” 

“Glad to hear it.” 

A silence settled between them as Snow busied herself returning spices to her spice cabinet and tidying up the kitchen. “I’ve hardly seen you since you and Emma got back from your trip.”

“I’ve been spending much of my time in the library, trying to find another solution to free those that the Dark One imprisoned.”

She tilted her head at him. “You do look tired. I hope you aren’t working too hard.”

“Poring over old manuscripts is tedious and frustrating, but I wouldn’t call it hard work. I spent many a year on my ship demanding hard work of sailors, and before that having it demanded of me. The gentleman’s labor of library research is easy by comparison.”

“You always worked on ships?”

“Aye, from the time I was a boy. My brother Liam and I were indentured from a young age. Once Liam was able to buy our freedom…” He clenched his jaw, shoving his shameful memories of that time aside. “Long story short, we were able to join the Royal Navy.”

“Ah, that must be where your education and manners come from,” Snow said, seemingly delighted at this new piece of the Captain Hook puzzle. “I always thought you seemed very well-spoken for a pirate — when you chose to be, anyway.”

“I certainly have the Navy to thank for any formal education. I've also had a lot of years since in which to catch up on my reading.”

“I suppose that's true,” she said with a chuckle, checking the contents of her stew pot.

Killian cleared his throat. “It probably won’t surprise you to know that I was trepidatious about your lunch invitation.”

“What, did you think I was bringing you here to order you to keep your hands off my daughter?” she said with a laugh.

“The thought did occur.”

Snow rolled her eyes. “It’s a little late for that, and it’s not like I have any say in who Emma dates, and what gave you the idea I disapproved of the two of you anyway?”

He flushed, looking down at the countertop. “It sort of stands to reason.”

“Well, relax. I have no intention of issuing any royal proclamations when it comes to Emma’s love life. I swear my only motivation in inviting you here was to feed you a home-cooked meal, because I would imagine those have been in short supply for you lately. Or maybe always?” Snow said as she ladled stew into a bowl. “I’m trying to duplicate a fish stew that our royal cook used to serve when I was a girl, and I figured who better to taste-test it than our local pirate?”

Killian grinned. “In that case, I am at your service.”

“Good,” she said, putting the bowl in front of him. “Let it cool off a little before you try it.”

Stirring the hot stew with his spoon, Killian let the steam warm his face. “You were right that home-cooked meals have been a rare luxury in my life. My father could barely be bothered to put any kind of food in front of us most of the time.”

“And your mother?”

He swallowed. “I never knew my mother.” 

“Oh. I’m so sorry.”

Killian shrugged. “You can’t miss what you’ve never had,” he said, knowing it was untrue even as the words came out of his mouth. He took a bite of the stew, savoring the flavors of it. “This is delicious. Best thing I’ve had since I came to this realm.”

“You’re just saying that,” Snow said, blushing faintly. “Although you are welcome to eat with us any time if it comes with such lovely compliments.”

“I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“It’s not an imposition.” She sat next to him with her own bowl. “You know, I’ve watched you work to be a better man and to win my daughter’s heart. I’ve watched you learning to live in this realm, and I’m sure it’s harder for you than you let on most of the time. But there’s one more thing that I’m going to insist that you also learn to live with.”

“What’s that?”

Snow reached out and put her hand over his hook where it was resting on top of the table. “Family.”

~*~

Emma pulled her sweater off over her head, her hair collecting static and briefly sticking up in all directions. “We have half an hour before my parents get back.”

Killian’s hand froze as he pulled the end of his belt back to unbuckle it, and Emma’s gaze dragged down from his kiss-bruised lips and zeroed in on the bulge in his jeans. “That’s cutting it rather close; are you sure about this?”

She rucked her own pants down her legs, sitting down on her bed in the loft to remove them. “Am I sure I need to get laid right now? Absolutely. It’s been almost a week and I am willing to risk it.”

“That’s easy for you to say, you’re not the one that your father will lock in the town jail _at best_ if they walk in on us.” Nonetheless, he continued efficiently removing his clothes. His nimble fingers working the buttons of his shirt and revealing more and more of his chest was stupidly mesmerizing, and she took a few seconds to watch him work.

“Just keep an ear out for the door downstairs and it’ll be fine,” she said as she reached behind her back to unfasten her bra. She let it slide down her arms before she tossed it away. 

“Stop,” Killian said as her hands went to her hips to pull her underwear off. “Let me.” His warm fingers on one side and his hook on the other, he slowly slid the fabric down her legs, and Emma couldn’t help but shiver at the raw desire she saw in his eyes.

They got under the covers together and he pressed her down into the mattress and _God_ , she was so turned on she hardly would’ve cared if the whole town walked in on them. She writhed underneath him, letting her legs fall open and shamelessly grinding against his erection. As Killian leaned down to kiss her, the muffled sound of her cell phone ringing reached her ears. 

“Ignore it,” she mumbled against his mouth before he suggested otherwise.

“I was planning on it.” 

The ringing stopped, and then almost immediately started again. 

“God dammit,” Emma groaned, pushing Killian off of her and fumbling beside the bed for her jeans. She pulled the phone from her pocket and answered the call. “Hello?” she said impatiently.

“Mom, did I leave my 3DS at the loft?”

She sighed heavily. “I don’t know, Henry, I haven’t seen it.”

“Can you look for it?”

Killian’s mouth descended on her collarbone, his teeth teasing her skin. “Not right now,” Emma said through clenched teeth. “I’ll look later, and I’ll bring it to Regina’s if I find it, okay?”

“Thanks!”

“Sorry about that.” She tossed the phone onto the bedside table and reached down to close her hand around his cock, making him gasp. 

His hips flexed, his erection sliding through her fist. “On second thought, I fear half an hour may be an optimistic assessment of my prowess tonight, love. I feel like I haven’t made love to you in an age.”

“Same here.” His hand slipped between her legs and it was Emma’s turn to gasp. “Fuck, just get inside me, I don’t need foreplay,” she gritted.

He didn’t need to be told twice. Emma wrapped her legs around his waist and he lined himself up and pushed into her, making both of them moan. “By all the gods, you feel unbelievable,” he said against her mouth. He started a quick rhythm, his pelvis grinding against hers at the apex of every thrust, and he felt so good, _so good_ …

Emma’s phone rang again, and this time the ringtone told her it was a forwarded call from the sheriff’s station.

“Don’t you dare answer that,” Killian said.

“I have to, it might be an emergency.” She reached over and grabbed for her phone, almost dropping it before she managed to answer the call.

“Sheriff,” she said, trying to school her voice to neutral. Killian stilled, but the sensation of him inside her was quite distracting. 

“We’ve got a problem, sister.”

Emma almost laughed out loud. Of course it was Grumpy. _Of course._ “What can I do for you, Leroy?” Killian collapsed against her, whispering swears into the crook of her neck.

“Grand larceny is what’s going on. I had some very valuable ... vintage magazines in a box in our garage, and the box has been stolen.”

“Vintage magazines?” Emma groaned, not a little bit because of the way Killian’s tongue was running along her skin. She had never been so simultaneously aroused and disgusted in her life, assuming ‘vintage magazines’ meant what she thought it did. 

“That’s what I said. Vintage magazines.”

Without really meaning to, Emma flexed her pelvic muscles, squeezing Killian from the inside. He groaned softly into her ear. “I can come out and take a look first thing tomorrow morning,” she said into the phone, her other hand coming up to stroke Killian’s hair.

“The trail will be cold by then! You need to come take a look _now_!”

 _I’m with my boyfriend,_ she was tempted to respond, _and he is literally inside me while I’m talking to you._ Imagining the look on Grumpy’s face in reaction to such a proclamation made her bite her lip to keep from laughing. Instead she said, “Are you sure one of your brothers didn’t just borrow them?”

The line went silent, and this time when Emma flexed her pelvic muscles, it was entirely on purpose. Killian whimpered and moved inside her, like he couldn’t help it. She shivered as she felt his teeth scrape against her neck.

“ _Happy! Did you take my magazines from the garage?!_ ” Emma winced and held the phone away from her ear. If Grumpy was covering up the phone speaker to shout at his brother, he was not doing a very good job. Her other hand left Killian’s hair and scratched down the firm plane of his back. 

There was a muffled response that Emma couldn’t make out through the phone, and then Grumpy said, “Sorry to bother you, Sheriff,” before abruptly disconnecting the call.

Emma let her hand drop and the phone fall out of it onto the rug. “Sorry again.”

“You are a vile temptress,” Killian responded, pistoning his hips. His thrusts picked up speed, his hot breath panting out against her neck, and it felt wonderful, but Emma had lost the pleasurable momentum that had been driving her forward. Figuring they didn’t have time to slow down and get her back in the mood, she made all the right noises, encouraging Killian until he spilled inside her with a pained groan.

After a few seconds, he lifted his head and regarded her. “You didn’t orgasm, did you?”

She gave him a half-smile. “Strangely, Leroy’s voice in my ear talking about his missing porn was not the turn-on you might think. Don't worry about it.”

He slid out of her, settling at her side. “But you were so… hungry for it a moment ago.” His hand trailed down her stomach, his voice velvety as he enunciated each word.

“I know, but now I...” She stopped talking as his fingers slid inside her, her head tilting backwards on the pillow. The sensation of their combined fluids coating his fingers was strangely arousing, and she gasped as he used his thumb to circle her clit. 

“Yes... Killian…”

“That’s it, my love. Let me see you come.” 

She moved her pelvis in time with his fingers, closing her eyes and focusing on the sparks of pleasure he was creating, reaching and climbing and there, she was almost there, _almost_ — 

Emma came with a soft moan, squeezing her eyes shut and allowing the pulsing ecstasy to wash over her. She gradually relaxed every muscle in her body, letting go of his shoulder where she had been gripping it, her hand dropping to the bed.

“That’s better,” Killian said, a smug smile on his face. His hand dragged across her thigh, and she was a mess and the sheets were definitely going to have to go in the laundry, but all she could do was meet his smile with one of her own.

The door downstairs opened. “Emma, we’re home!” her mother called.

“Okay, I’ll be down in a minute!” she yelled back, pressing a finger to her lips and staring wide-eyed at Killian.

They did their best to clean up and dress as quietly as possible, Emma quickly running a brush through her hair as Killian buttoned his shirt and vest. Baby Neal was downstairs screeching at random intervals, which she hoped was distracting her parents from wondering what she was up to. Even so, it felt ludicrously obvious what they had been doing as the two of them descended the stairs to the main part of the loft. David certainly seemed to find it obvious, narrowing his eyes at them and glaring.

Killian kept his distance from her parents, bidding them a polite good evening before he made his excuses and turned to leave. Emma followed, pulling the door closed and giving him a sheepish smile.

“Sorry about that.”

“Not to worry. Tell your father to give me a few days to get my affairs in order before the execution.”

“We can stay at your place tomorrow if you want,” Emma said with a chuckle. 

He put his arms around her, pulling her close. “Can we fall asleep together?” he asked, his voice soft and vulnerable. “I find I don't sleep half as well when you aren't with me.”

“Yeah.” She kissed his lips, his cheek, his ear. “Sure we can.” Pulling out of the hug and taking hold of his hook, she added. “Let me know if you come across any other magical items in Belle’s books that are in any far off locations. Chicago, maybe? L.A.? I hear Paris is nice.”

“Anywhere you want to go, Swan, I will be at your side if you’ll have me.”

Happiness swelling in her chest, Emma smiled. “I think I’ll have you.”

 

_END_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who has left such wonderful comments on this fic; I love you all. Don't forget you can also find me on tumblr as unfolded73.


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